


Don't fear the Reaper

by Elleh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, M/M, Mythology References, Shinigamis, and it's about gods of death so, god of deaths, there's gonna be death sorry, this is that kind of fic in which everything is tragedy and angst, what the fuck is this i don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleh/pseuds/Elleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I will give you three months. You have and will carry out this command before that time. If one of you fails, all of you will be condemned to the Abis," Tooru grimaced. This was more than a punishment; this was literally the master trying to kill them off, either condemning all of them to hell or making them turn against each other. "And remember: if you don't kill your fated humans, their punishment will be even harder than yours. Don't forget that Death can't never be fooled. Not even by Death itself."</p><p>And wasn't that an statement, Tooru thought with growing pain in his dead chest. He would have to kill his human, his precious and lively and grumpy human, and for a second, even death couldn't quite take the burden of that unspeakable sin in his weightless soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first of all let me warn you of some things. I didn't activate the Major Death Character Warning, but I want to say this is about Gods of Death (Shinigamis) and so there will be death. Without saying more about the story, I will say this: it has a happy ending, but it's a bittersweet one. I just don't know how to write something that doesn't destroys someones heart, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Second, this is literally my first fic and the first time I write in english. I'm pretty sure there are some mistakes that would make someone want to rip their eyes off, so, in advance… I'M SORRY. 
> 
> Also, I've been listening [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aQCzmg_GdA) nonstop everytime I write this, so I'm just leaving it here…

##### 0.

The silence was deep and loud in the room, no echo left of the last words spoken. None of the six people sitting in front of the big figure in shade was able to process the meaning of what they just heard, even less articulate a word against it. Oikawa Tooru couldn't take his eyes off their master, and was unable to really comprehend the truth behind the announcement. 

Tooru knew he was one of the best candidates to become a chosen Shinigami, but he also knew that his inclinations towards breaking the rules and hierarchy were not helping him earn that position. He _knew_ that he should have not got it so early in his training and, because his mind was fast even in shock, he understood what the master didn't said out loud. 

Surprise rushed over him as he processed the discovery. He watched the five other man that were quite around him and raised his eyebrows in wry amusement. He thought himself so smart and so rule breaker, but even damn Tobio-chan was here, face red, eyes looking at his knees and so ashamed that even Tooru felt uncomfortable. He was the most obvious, though the others wore similar expressions, going from shock to sorrow in different degrees. Suga had his fists tensely closed, while Akaashi was bitting his lower lip so hard that black blood was starting to come out. Yamaguchi couldn't even blink and Tooru was unable to tell if he had breathed even once since the master stopped talking. Kenma was, perhaps, the most difficult one to read, but Tooru had made his life about reading people and comprehend them, so he knew. He sat still, his cat-eyes fixed in the master, breathing normally, but Tooru saw the flinch in his shoulder blades, as if he was trying to contain his body from escaping the reality he was facing.

Tooru couldn't quite believe that all of _these_ man were here, but that only showed him how mislead he was in his own abilities. They all had sinned and this was their punishment. 

"I will give you three months. You have and _will_ carry out this command before that time. If one of you fails, all of you will be condemned to the Abis," Tooru grimaced. This was more than a punishment; this was literally the master trying to kill them off, either condemning all of them to hell or making them turn against each other. "And remember: if you don't kill _your_ _fated_ humans, their punishment will be even harder than yours. Don't forget that Death can't never be fooled. Not even by Death itself."

And wasn't that an statement, Tooru thought with growing pain in his dead chest. He would have to kill his human, his precious and _lively_ and grumpy human, and for a second, even death couldn't quite take the burden of that unspeakable sin in his weightless soul.

  
  


##### 1.

"I didn't even know you had it in you, Tobio-chan."

Once the master had brushed them off, they had all come back to their dorms. It seemed like a general feeling, that uneasiness and quite fear to be alone with their own minds, so they all sticked together in the shared living room. They had been there, sitting like the dead they supposedly were, no words shared for what it felt like an eternity before Tooru, sick of the growing pain in his chest, broke it with his teasing. 

"Shut up," said Kageyama, no real feeling in the stupid words. 

Tooru clicked his tongue. He hated when his viper comments didn't reach that stupid kouhai of his. 

"I mean, we all thought you were, you know, a good kid. A genius, always-in-the-right-path, kind of kid."

"Well, he's obviously not," Sugawara looked at Tooru with a deep, concerned gaze that he couldn't help but feel in the depth of his soul. Tooru liked Sugawara, but he liked him better when those knowing and caring eyes were not pointed at him. "And neither are you. Or any of us. Instead of picking a fight with Kageyama, maybe we should— we should—" Suga took his eyes away from Tooru, but not before he could see the pain bright and clear in them. 

Tooru could have finished his sentence. He had been thinking and over thinking it the last hours, or maybe the last lifetime —the one that started the day he meet the small and grumpy Iwaizumi Hajime— and that sentence ended with a simple question.

What if there was another way? 

It was against their nature, and it pained Tooru more than what he would ever recognize. But the truth was —a truth he only admitted to himself—, it pained more to think about his Iwa-chan dead in his arms, _because_ of him, than going against his own nature and _save_ him. He was a Shinigami and he loved to be a Shinigami. He had the talent (not as Tobio-chan, but none the less), he had the spirit and he had the ability. He was _good_ at being a Shinigami, in all the parts and knowledge that someone actually needed to know to be one. 

It was not only death, it was not _killing_ but _understanding_. It was a full knowledge about the _why_ , and the decision about the _how_ , and the chosen path for the souls they were taking _home_. Being a Shinigami meant not only end a life, but planning the beginning of another. A killer would never become a Shinigami, because killing was the _way_ they had to do it, not the _reason_. 

He knew the truth about the Shinigamis and about souls and about death. He knew that not killing Iwa-chan would meant condemning his soul to the depth of darkness, unable to start again, taking away from him the possibility of another life, of more experiences, of growing. 

Tooru was selfish and it was a fact well known to himself. He had been selfish when he visited Iwa-chan the second time, and the third, and all the hundredth that came after that. He had been selfish when he started looking at him more and more; he had been selfish when he started acting like a spoiled brat and let Iwaizumi act like the one-hundred-years-old adult one. He knew all the relationship he had created around and _with_ Iwaizumi was the most selfish thing he had ever done in his life, but Tooru discovered that he couldn't help himself. Somewhere between the second time he visited and the thirtieth, Tooru became addicted to the feeling of being _alive_ and feel _cared_. And that feeling got worse when Iwaizumi started to grow and became a man rather than a cute and grumpy boy that teased Tooru as much as Tooru teased him. 

He was curious. Did the others fell in the same trap as him? Were all of them as stupid as Tooru had been? It was impressive how much power a simple human could have, even upon not only one death, but _six_. 

"So. Is it time now to share all of our inner truths?" Tooru intended to say it as a joke, but it came out in a strange voice that he couldn't even recognize. Was that tears what he heard in his shaking tone? Damn. 

"Why would we even do that?" the quite, small voice came from Kenma, who had a small tangle of cords between his fingers. He didn't look up when he spoke, but Tooru could feel the weight of his eyes either way. "Do you want to hurt yourself more, Tooru? Do you want us to hurt ourselves more?"

Tooru couldn't help but feel uneasy at his words. No, he didn't want to feel more sorrow. No, he didn't want _them_ to feel more sorrow, not even Tobio-chan. He hated the small damn genius, but not even to him would Tooru desire such torture. 

"We will have to kill them," Yamaguchi said, with tears in his eyes and his freckles like dark dots in his pale face. "I don't know— if I will be able to do that."

"You will have to," Akaashi said, not really loud, not harsh, not even with emotion. Tooru was pretty sure that Akaashi was trying to suppress his own feelings so damn hard that he couldn't even feel straight anymore. "If you don't, then all of us will be condemned. And not only us six, but _them_ as well."

"How can you be so calm?" Yamaguchi asked, surprised and hurt. "Don't you care?"

Tooru laughed a bit at the stupid question. 

"Freckles-chan, that is quite unfair of you, don't you think?" 

Yamaguchi had the sense to look a bit ashamed, but his eyes didn't leave Akaashi. The other Shinigami was looking at Kenma's tangled hands and didn't reply. 

"Should we— should we come up with a plan?"

"About murder?" Tooru looked at Suga, surprised about his words. "I thought _you_ were against this."

"I am. Not," Suga's hands hid his face away for a second while the man tried to clear his thoughts. "I don't want to kill Daichi," he whispered and for a moment Tooru thought that he made up his words before he followed. "I am a Shinigami and I like to be one, but killing Daichi— me killing Daichi— It's too much."

It was. The master was punishing them, as Tooru had thought earlier. It was a torture and it was training, but more than anything it was a way to have all of them under control. Death was a serious business and it had to be carried in the right way, or the fate of humanity would be doom. Tooru understood the reason behind it but he couldn't agree with it. He _loved_ beyond human comprehension the existence of Iwaizumi Hajime and the idea of _destroying_ it was a complete treason to himself. Tooru was one of the best Shinigamis in training but he knew, because he was one of the best, that he would never ever be able to kill his Iwa-chan. 

"I won't be able to kill him," Tooru confessed, after a long silence. "I _don't_ want to kill him."

Suga looked at him then and Tooru saw in his eyes the exact same words that were echoing in his mind in answer to his confession. The master never said that each one of them had to kill their own human. He just said that their humans had to die in the next three months. 

"I do have a plan!" Tooru said, more excited than what he should, giving the topic of their conversation. 

"Enlighten us, oh, Oikawa-sama," Kageyama said wry. For once Tooru didn't reply to his annoying voice. Tobio-chan had no importance, not with Iwa-chan's coming death, so Tooru ignored his kouhai the best he could, seated closer to the other five, and shared his murder plan. 

 

Tooru had his bright brown eyes put on his partners when he finished explaining his _brilliant_ plan. He was expecting _oohs_ , and _whaaaas_ , but all he got in response was a tense, awkward silence. 

"Is that it?" Akaashi asked, always polite. But Tooru didn't miss the bend of his eyebrow full of: Oikawa-san, why do you even bother to open your mouth if that's what you are going to say? Tooru pouted to the gesture before turning his eyes to the always-kind-and-gentle Suga. 

Suga, however, didn't welcome him with his oh-so-hated-but-so-loved-at-the-same-time nice and understanding gaze. No, instead Suga was watching him with pity. 

_My plan is genius, you rude and stupid people!_

"Yes, that's it. We just put their names in papers, put them in a hat and let luck decide who kills who!"

Kageyama let out a sigh that put on Tooru's face a murderous expression.

"Do you have a better idea, _Tobio-chan_? "

"No, but what if we pick our own human?"

"We do it again," said Tooru, cuttingly. 

"But what if—?

"Let's just do it," Kenma stopped Kageyama's complain with a movement of his hand, still tangled with red strings. Tooru looked at it with suspicion, not really sure if the game Kenma was playing was getting really complicated or if the other Shinigami was unable to untangled himself from that mess. 

Sugawara, taking the lead, had already stood up and grabbed a long, black hat sitting in one of the corners of the room. Akaashi brought a brush and paper and he wrote with beautiful calligraphy the kanjis that constructed his human's name. He cut the paper with a neat, straight movement and passed the tools to Kenma (who, as Tooru thought, was unable to untangle himself from the mess of strings between his fingers, so Kageyama took the tools instead). One by one, all of them wrote their humans' names in a deep, hard silence. It grow tighter and thicker with each kanji drawn by that dead brush they were using and when Sugawara made the last stroke of Daichi's name, Tooru could touch it. He felt his chest grow heavier when all of them folded the papers without pronouncing a single word and put them inside the hat. Suga passed it to Tooru ( _it was your idea, Oikawa, so you carry the burden_ ). Tooru took it, hands shaking, and looked inside to the white stains shinning like stars in the night of the hat. He couldn't recognize the kanjis, and even if he picked Iwaizumi's name, he would had to put it back and do it again. Tooru sighed, low and strangle, and put his right hand inside. He waved it a bit before picking the name that felt more warm against his fingers. The other men were in expectant silence when Tooru unfolded the paper and let out a thick, heavy breath. 

"Who is it?" Suga inquired, more anxious now than when they were facing the master. 

"Kuroo Tetsurou."

"Oh," Kenma said, too quiet to even call it a word, but so full of emotion that Tooru felt guilt crawl inside him. 

"I will take good care of him," Tooru promised, seriousness filling his eyes. "I will make him go home the best way there is, I swear." 

Kenma didn't say anything, but he nodded. Tooru knew him, so he knew what that nod really meant: _Thank you, Tooru._ Tooru understood the pain in Kenma's silence and the damn pain in his chest grew wider and heavy with the burden of not only Iwaizumi's, but that unknown's human coming death as well. He didn't know Kuroo (yet) but Kenma was one of his, so by extension now Kuroo was his as well. 

It sucked so much, having a soul in this line of business. 

"You are next," Tooru offered to Kenma.

The small man took the hat, picked a paper and unfolded it within a second, and before any of them could prepare themselves for the next blowing punch, he said:

"Hinata Shouyou."

The strangled, weird sound came from Kageyama this time and he was next to pick up a paper. One by one, in a silence full of pain and promises not spoken, they all unfolded a name, they all said it out loud and they all felt the burden in their shoulders grow bigger and bigger. When Suga unfolded the last one, hands shaking, Tooru wasn't even breathing anymore. There was one name left in that damn hat and it was ironic that sweet, gentle Sugawara was the one who had to kill the most important thing in Tooru's life. 

"Iwaizumi Hajime," he said, incapable of confronting Oikawa's gaze. 

Tooru wanted to say that it was ok. _You are so gentle, Suga, you will take him in the happiest death ever. I know. I understand, It's ok._ But Tooru couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud. He felt them but his mouth was paralyzed. Maybe the comprehension that Iwaizumi's death was something real and that it was going to happen in the next three months had stopped all functions in Tooru's brain. That made sense, although all sense had just vanished from Tooru's reality with that soft name whispered in Suga's tender voice. He was waiting, expecting his normal self to come back, to joke, to pick a fight with insupportable Tobio-chan, to boast about his looks, to say loud and clear how talented he was; to say something, to feel something in the right way. 

But while the seconds passed and the silence remained, the right way didn't come back to Tooru. There were no jokes and there was no voice and for a frightening moment, Tooru thought—no, he felt— that there was literally _nothing_. 

"Tooru, it's gonna be alright."

Kenma's voice saved him, if nothing else. Tooru connected with reality again, holding onto Kenma's cat-like eyes with so much need it was scary. The other shinigami was nearer than before, almost touching his arm with his own in a really shy, Kenma way of comfort. 

"We are gonna be alright."

Tooru nodded, but deep inside he didn't believe him. 

 

The moment passed, thank the gods. Tooru still felt the weird void in his chest, but he could smile again, and smirk to Tobio-chan and joke about Yamaguchi's freckles shinning like stars in his red blush. He was himself again. At least, as himself as he could be with the upcoming reality that they would have to face. 

They had burned the papers, almost as a ritual to get rid of the dry, heavy feeling of their next jobs. They were still in the living room, night dark and quite outside the windows. Tooru had lost count of the hours, but it didn't really matter now. He had no need to sleep and even if he needed the rest, his mind was too awake to even consider it. He was curled up, his arms around himself trying to protect his spirit of the monsters outside. Tooru had developed that unconscious habit so long ago that it was a given of his personality by now, but it was shocking to see this proud, noisy shinigami acting like a fragile being when left alone with his thoughts. 

He was bitting his nail while spacing out. Kenma had grabbed another game and was trying to ignore Yamaguchi the best he could, while the other tried to talk and play with him. It was funny, the needy way Yamaguchi acted, but at the same time a warm wave grow in Tooru's chest to the view. They were his brothers, and Tooru was so proud of them —he counted Tobio-chan, but the truth that he hated him remained— that he felt almost shame to it. They were his and so Tooru would give the world for them. It was a funny feeling, since Tooru had always thought that belief was only his and not shared. But now that his heart was a bit exposed and a little more susceptible to his surroundings, he understood what he was blind to comprehend before. He had agreed to give a part of his soul for Kenma's sake, and all of them had done the exact same thing. His loyalty was not one sided, but returned with the same amount of love. 

Tooru bit his nail with more strength, powerless to control his anxiety. It scared him so much, _feelings_. He felt too much. For his brothers, for life, for Iwaizumi Hajime. Tooru had the precognition that his _genius plan_ wasn't going to be as perfect as he had thought before, cocky and arrogant. He expected it to flow, natural, as it is breathing for the living. But while he sat there, curled like a ball of sadness, incapable of taking his thoughts off of death, he found that he didn't know what natural was anymore. 

Was Iwa-chan his natural? Was it being a Shinigami? It couldn't be both because wanting Iwa-chan and be a Shinigami were opposites. So, what was Oikawa Tooru now? Was this that kind of life-changing moment people talked about? Was this the time when he had to decide what it was going to be the rest of his life?

"I think we should ban ourselves from seeing them."

Yamaguchi's voice brought Tooru back to reality. He stopped swinging his body backward and forth (when the heck did he start doing that?) and gazed at Yamaguchi with a risen brow. 

"Come again?"

"I said that—" he blushed like a scholar girl when he repeated himself and Tooru chuckled a bit to the view— "we shouldn't see them. As a rule. So, each of us will talk to the human we have to kill, but the others— No visiting, no talking about them, no—

"That sounds like a really bad idea," disagreed Tooru with a grimace. He was literally incapable of doing such a thing. 

"It's a really good idea," Yamaguchi's eyes lighted with irritation. "I won't be able to handle Tsu—Tsukki's death—" he blushed again. He was so adorable, and Tooru laughed openly this time, unable to stop himself, "— I won't be able to let Akaashi kill him if I keep my relationship with him.

That was a good argument and Tooru agreed deep inside with him. It would be twenty times more difficult to let Iwa-chan die if he kept visiting him, but that meant to lose the light in his boring, cold existence. 

"Do we all agree?" pushed Yamaguchi, when none of them replied.

One by one, they nodded in silence. When all the gazes came to stop in Tooru, the pressure was too much to go against it. With a curt movement, he nodded as well, letting the silence be filled with Yamaguchi's relieved breath. 

Poor thing, he thought he had won that battle but Tooru could see the truth in all of them. They had _agreed_ , but they were _lying_ like the stupids boys in love they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have arrived here means that you've realized how much I love italics and remaking shit. I'm sorry, this story is full of it, I'm just too addicted by now to stop myself.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Hope u enjoyed it ???? and i'm tragedy trash so this is going to hurt a lot!


	2. Chapter 2

Iwaizumi Hajime was addicted to coffee. Not in that sweet way of _if I don't have my cup of coffee in the morning I'm not a real person_ kind of addicted. No, he needed a liter of caffeine before nine to start _thinking_ and if he missed one of his several coffee stops during his day at work he literally became a brute, grumpy monster, unable to stand anything that classified as less than perfect. 

It was a serious problem and he was well aware of it. His coworkers teased him non stop about how he needed to get in a rehabilitation center to take him off (they _joked_ but Hajime was pretty sure that he would need one in case life forced him to quit coffee). So, coffee was one (or several) of the most important parts of Hajime's day. The first cup was a _miracle_ , the second a _blessing_ and while finishing the fourth in the Owl's, the coffee shop next to his clinic, he would start to feel just as a _person_ instead of a rising spirit from his grave. 

It was now his sixth cup of the day and for a change he was drinking it in his free hour between patients. Sawamura Daichi, his coworker and friend since college, was sitting next to him, drinking a tea latte (what the heck was a tea latte, and why would people chose that over coffee, Hajime would never understand, but whatever) and going through his emails. It had been a rough day: working from eight to four non stop and having now their lunch break before confronting four more hours of patients and injuries and people in general. 

Daichi was good with people. Iwaizumi wasn't bad—he just had a hard time with idiots. Patience _could_ be his forte, but only if the other person deserved it, and to be frankly honest, Iwaizumi's standards were quite high in that matter. 

"We should clear our schedule a bit next week", Hajime glanced over at Daichi, who was still reading through his emails.

"Why?"

"There's going to be a convention," Daichi did look over to Iwaizumi then, exasperation flickering in his eyes. "I told you like, one month ago. This convention about rehabilitation for high ranked athletes. If we want our center to be recognize inside the athletes world, we need to attend this things."

Now Iwaizumi remembered. Not the convention, but the reason why he forgot it in the first place. If he was bad with people in the small treatment room, imagine Hajime in a huge lounge with so many cocky persons. Murder was, literally, the lightless thing that could happen. 

"I'm not going," he said without even blinking. 

Daichi growled deep in his throat, as if _that_ could scare Hajime, of all people. 

"Iwaizumi, I'm telling you we need this for our business. Do you understand that advertisement is as important as being a good therapist?"

Oh, Hajime did understand it, big and flat. But the fact that he understood what they had to do didn't meant that he had to do it. 

"You can go. Without me. We can't both go at the same time anyway."

"Our faces must be seen. Both of our faces. We are the owners."

And how it pissed him sometimes, when Daichi used it against him in this kind of situations. 

"Take Hitoka-san with you. She needs to see how the reality of this business feels."

"Hitoka-san is not one of the owners, Iwaizumi."

Hajime drank his coffee without answering. 

"Do you think that your silent treatment is going to work with me? I'm worst than you."

That was true, but Hajime hold his reply nonetheless. They had had this kind of argument several times by now and after four years of partnership, Daichi should had know by now that this was a lost cause. And anyway, Hitoka-san had a gift with people and she was a really good therapist. Daichi and him had already talked about giving her a promotion soon (not maybe make her a third owner yet, but close enough). He wasn't kidding when he said to Daichi that Hitoka needed to attend these kind of things since Hajime was not going to do it ever, and so that responsibility would end up falling on her eventually.

Daichi sighed, loud and clear. Hajime took another sip of his coffee to hide his smile. 

He was leaving the cup back in the table when the waiter came to their table.

"How is your coffee, Iwaizumi-san?" he asked, loud and energetic as always. He was almost shinning when he smiled down at him. "I just baked a banana and coconut cake and I thought that maybe you were hungry, since this is your lunch time and all!"

Hajime didn't had a sweet tooth, but that kid's cakes were heaven.

"Banana and coconut?" Daichis gaze was skeptical when he glared at the red-headed. "That sounds like a dangerous experiment, Hinata."

"It was an experiment, all right! But it's great and it tastes so good you will be all gwaaah and bruuu and you will want to cry," he smiled, big and overjoyed before he realized what he had just said. "Obviously, you will be crying of _happiness_ because that's what my cakes do! They bring happiness to people!"

Hajime believed that. Not that the cakes per se brought happiness, but Hinata did. Hajime had the feeling that he was happiness bottled inside a tiny human. 

"I'm starving so I will have a piece, if I may," Iwaizumi gave Hinata one of his rare and true smiles, and Hinata's lips curved in an even bigger smile. Hajime was sure his cheeks were going to hurt like hell if he kept doing that for much longer. 

"Perfect! One for Iwaizumi-san. What about you, Sawamura-san? I can bring you one of the regular cakes, if you prefer," Hinata offered, always ready to please his customers (Hajime would even go to the length of saying _favorite_ customers, since they spent half of their lives in the Owl's). 

"I will risk my health and try that experiment of yours."

"I promise it will be worth it! I will bring them in a second," he smiled again (that bright, sun-like smile of his) before he rushed back to the kitchen. 

Hajime was still smiling when he reached for his coffee again (he had finished it already, damn) and then he caught Daichi's gaze. 

"What now?" Hajime inquired, annoyed. 

Daichi shrugged his shoulders and lied back into his chair, his eyes sticked to Iwaizumi's face. 

"Nothing. It's just—you seem happy, lately."

Hajime raised a brow, speechless. They were _not_ doing this, definitely not.

"Is it—uh—did something good happen?"

Oh, fuck, they _were_ doing this, weren't they?

"What the fuck, Daichi."

The other man raised his hands without a word and Hajime sighed deeply. 

"I'm just saying. You haven't had a lot of luck—in personal matters, that is. You usually stress your ass off after the first week you start something with someone but lately—I don't know how to explain it. I just feel you are more—free?"

Hajime sat speechless, unable to take his surprised gaze away from Daichi. The bastard was sharp as a knife, if not something else. Hajime felt more free lately because he had accepted one of the biggest truths in his _entire_ life. He was embracing it and he was enjoying it and while it was quite a shock, it felt so right at the same time that he was almost in bliss. 

Daichi got it wrong, though. The _starting something with someone_. Nothing had started. Yet. Or rather, it had started so long ago that it was difficult to say when. Hajime didn't know, that was for sure. He had had Oikawa's presence in his life for almost the length of it, so it was not surprising. Not his confused feelings, nor he being unable to tell when it had all begun. 

And it was not only the _feeling_ part that had put Hajime through some hard times. That was, in fact, the easy part. The hardest had been accepting what Oikawa must have been or could be or was. Hajime had no clue about the what but, although it had bothered him for half of his life, now that he realized his own truth, Oikawa's truths had lost all their significance. It didn't matter what he was, because Hajime would feel exactly the same towards him no matter the answer. 

So yes, he was more free than the other times, because all the other times that he had pretended to be in love with someone, he had actually and secretively been in love with Oikawa Tooru. He had been too damn scared to do anything about it (and by anything, he meant confronting the fact) and so he had tried to do the relationship thing with other people and had failed miserly; and he had tried again and he had failed again, over and over. He had been doomed to fail since he was five and he met that weird but pretty enough man in the mountain behind his house, but it had took a considerably amount of time to figure that out. 

"I'm fine. I'm good enough, and I'm happy, if that's your question," Hajime didn't elaborate, he hated to talk about himself, even with Daichi, who was, after all, his best friend. 

"So, you are seeing someone."

"No. I wouldn't say that."

Daichi had opened his mouth to tease him (Hajime was pretty sure that was what it was going to happen) when Hinata appeared with their cakes. _God bless you, Hinata_ , Hajime thought with devotion while the red-headed left the plates in front of them. 

"Enjoy the meal!"

Hajime growled, as did his belly, and he filled his mouth with the cake. To kill his hunger, but most than anything, to avoid Daichi's gaze and the words that Hajime hadn't spoken, but that were hanging in the air between them nonetheless. _Are you in love and happy, Hajime?_ , Daichi's eyes seemed to ask. 

And god saved him, Hajime was in love indeed. Quite madly and stupidly in love. 

 

They closed the clinic some minutes after nine. Hajime was deep in sorrow after the one hour patient he had to confront during his last appointment of the day. The woman had had a serious fracture in his knee some months ago and truth be told, it pained even Hajime to se what she was going through. She endured the hour the best she could but Hajime knew that it hurt like hell and he couldn't help but feel guilty because of it. 

That was one of the reasons why Hajime was bad at dealing with people. He tended to over care. He had no connection with that patient and yet he had this urge to call her and make sure she was feeling ok, that her knee wasn't giving her any problem, that Hajime hadn't broken her even more. 

He let out a deep sight and locked the door with his and Daichi's name written on. Hitoka-san was trembling besides him, freezing while she tried to maintain her body temperature with her small arms around her chest. 

"You can go home, Hitoka-san. I've told you several times that you don't need to stay until we close."

Daichi was back in the Owl's since he had forgotten his phone earlier there. Iwaizumi could see him and the owner of the store through the big windows across the street and he furrowed his brow when he recognized the figure that was talking to Daichi at the moment. 

"It's alright. I'm going with Hinata for dinner, anyways."

Iwaizumi got his gaze back to Hitoka-san, his brow angled now in a curious, not invasive-but-persistent-kind of silent question. Hitoka blushed profusely while she started to shake her head. 

"It's not like that, Iwaizumi-san! We are just friends. We shared some classes a couple of years ago in university and he has been a really good friend for me."

Iwaizumi smiled a bit at her words. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable anymore, so he patted her shoulder and pointed to the coffee shop with his head. 

"Let's go, then?"

"Are you coming too, Iwaizumi-san?"

"Yes, there is someone I know in there, and I will have to carry him home anyway. Probably."

Hitoka-san opened her eyes in surprise, but discreet as she was, she didn't said anything. They both headed across the street in a quite, warm silent. Hajime thought, while they entered the store, that he was a lucky bastard. He was starting to be happy for what it felt an eternity and he was grateful for it. More than words could ever cover. 

 

They were looking down, across the clouds. Suga was embracing himself, his hands pale and cold in his upper arms. Tooru could see the small shivering in his fingers, but he couldn't bring himself to comfort the other. He was as nervous as Suga was and Tooru was pretty sure that his words would only bring more distress to his friend. 

"I didn't know," Suga's voice sounded small and broken.

"I'm sorry, Suga. I never connected—"

But how could have he connected it, if they never shared their sins before the master put them on the table. How was Tooru, who only had had eyes for Iwaizumi for so long, realize that Hajime's Daichi was, in fact, Suga's Daichi.

"How am I going to confront your human if he literally spends all his useful hours with mine?"

What he was asking, though, was another thing, but Tooru could answer neither. 

He wanted to tell Suga: _I can have Iwa-chan back, I don't care._

He wanted to whisper: _We can keep it a secret; I can have him for myself a little longer, that way it will hurt even more afterwards._

He wanted to scream: _Don't kill him, Suga; don't take him away from me._

But Tooru said nothing and while he watched his Iwa-chan with that petite and blond creature cross the street and get into the other shop, while he watched his human alive and living, the only thing that he wanted was to put his feet in the world below and live besides him. 

"What are we going to do, Tooru?" 

The broken question could have been the wind, for all the coldness that brought to Tooru's heart. Suga wasn't asking about the Iwaizumi's and Daichi's precarious situation and Tooru understood it; but, as with all the questions before, he had no answer. 

No answer, that is, that could bring any of them some peace of mind. 

"Suffer, I guess. It's the only thing left for us."

Suga turned around without another word and Tooru gazed to his Iwa-chan some seconds more before he followed his lead. 

 

The days felt longer that week. Each hour seemed to last a lifetime and Hajime's tiredness reached unthinkable limits when they closed the clinic on friday's night. He hadn't allowed himself to get through the whys about his anxiety during the week but now that the weekend was here and he had to spend two full days with his own company, he couldn't deny the truth anymore. 

Oikawa hadn't contacted him in any way during five whole days with their nights included. Not a text message, not a call, not a visit —Oikawa was a master in surprise visits—. Nothing. If Hajime didn't know better, he would have thought that something bad had happened to him —and when he said bad he meant _six–feet–under–dead_ kind of bad. 

(In Hajime's imagination, Oikawa being whatever he was turned him in some _immortal–always–present–being_ ; he had always assumed that his existence was a given but just now he realized what a childish way of thinking that was.)

Hajime entered his house and let out a deep sight. His shoulders hurt like hell and he was starving but, surprise, Kuroo had eaten all their fridge's contents so he had to face the hard decision of: eating half an onion, taste the weird-looking fried rice that had been in that fridge since the creation of electricity, or order something. 

Problem was, Hajime was an animal of habits. And his habits, for better (or for worse, in this case) were usually related to Oikawa. Ordering food in a friday night was just one example in the long list full of small, tiny details of Hajime's rutine. 

Frustrated and mad at himself for being such an stubborn idiot, Hajime closed the fridge's door with a brusk movement that made his shoulder scream in pain. Unable to contain the urge, he took his phone from his pocket and typed furiously. 

_(09:59) >> Where the fuck are you, Shittykawa?_

_(10:03) >> Are you dead?_

_(11:11) >> Is there a real reason for you not letting me know of your damned existence?_

_(11:17) >> Is everything ok?_

_(11:18) >> For your own sake I hope this is not another of your hissy fits because someone said that you are not pretty enough._

_(11:22) >> For real, though. If something was off you would tell me, right?_

Hajime threw his phone to the table and hid his face in his hands, head against the back of the sofa while he tried to contain the bigger and weightier worry that was swelling in his chest like a damn cancer. This had happened once (Hajime had remembered it when he had decided that a soup would do it for tonight). Like with some of the things in Iwaizumi's life, that small incident had vanished from his memory for a really simple reason. Oikawa had promised him, with his heart in his eyes, that he would never do something like that again, closing himself to Hajime. He had believed him, because Oikawa couldn't lie to him and because he wanted, needed desperately to believe him. 

Hajime had been eighteen and been Hajime like he was, the time that was supposed to be the _beginning of his life_ was, in fact, a really stressing moment to go through. It was difficult to endure the idea of leaving all the things that he had know for his entire life behind; his town, his friends, his family, his routine. It had been overwhelming and at the time the only think keeping him altogether had been always—there, always—present Oikawa. 

Now that he thought about it, the uneasy feeling he was feeling right now was exactly the same as the one he had felt then. Oikawa was his anchor and his northern star in his moments of changes, and when he had left him alone, no warning, no clue, no anything, something inside Iwaizumi had lost grip and broke. It might have been one of the remainders of Iwaizumi's innocence; Oikawa had always been his weakness. Because he was too attached to him, yes; but mostly because Oikawa made Iwaizumi blind to anything else. He was smart enough to get through life without much suffering, but when he put Oikawa into the equation, disasters were meant to happen. 

It was an innocence—broken moment again, Hajime comprehended while he took his hands away from his eyes and watched the ceiling in pained silence. He had this ingenious beliefs concerning Oikawa, that kind of conviction that was created in the early years of life, with roots deep and strong, but as fragile as a whisper. Hajime had thousands of this beliefs. _Oikawa is immortal; Oikawa will always be here; if this goes bad, at least I will have him; we will always be together; our relationship is the soil under my feet._

_He's going to be here._

The list followed. Hajime could have turned Oikawa into the sun in his innocent mind so many years ago and he would still believe it now as a truth written in stone. He knew that Oikawa had too much power over him, but it was only in this kind of moments (when he was alone) that it bothered him. But why would he even think about it when Oikawa just had _failed_ him twice in almost thirty years. 

His phone buzzed then, taking Hajime away from his thoughts. He reached it when it buzzed again, screen lightened with several messages. 

**(00:00) >> Did you know that if you look at the clock when is 00:00 that means that someone loves you?**

**(00:01) >> TOO LATE, IWA-CHAN. NO ONE LOVES YOU NOW. You should be faster next time. **  
**(00:01) >> What's up.**

Hajime wanted to scream at his phone. Damn stupid Oikawa. But he couldn't hide the smile that was spreading across his face. He wasn't going to forget the five days and nights of silence, but it was something that he would rather confront face to face. 

_(00:03) >> You took too much time. I don't want to talk to you anymore. Good night._

**(00:04) >> HOW DARE YOU IWA-CHAN. Don't ignore me!!!! Have you seen Alien Attack?! I left it in your place so you could watch it alone~ **

_(00:05) >> Wtf. Who told you you could leave your shit in my apartment, Shittykawa?_

**(00:06) >> Kuroo did.**

_(00:07) >> That would be easier to believe if you at least knew Kuroo._

**(00:09) >> Maybe Iwa-chan is not as smart as he thinks he is and I've meet him already~**

_(00:10) >> My friendship with you shows that I'm, indeed, not as smart as I should._

**(00:10) >> RUDE!!**

_(00:16) >> Good night, Oikawa._

**(00:17) >> AT LEAST APOLOGIZE!! If you don't, you might have really bad dreams. It's called karma. **

_(00:18) >> You would know that, since is kicking your ass daily. _

_(00:21) >> I'm going to sleep for real now._  
_(00:21) >> But, are you ok?_

**(00:26) >> I'm fine, Iwa-chan. Sorry to haven't contacted you this last few days. Something came up.**  
**(00:26) >> But I'm super fine. Don't worry about me!!**

_(00:28) >> Who would worry about you?_  
_(00:34) >> If something was off you'd tell me, right?_

**(01:52) >> I always do. You are my safe place, Hajime. **  
**(01:52) >> Good night. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading again! I hope you enjoy it ???? (tragedy trash and all). This chapter is for Alaa_Ali and that amazing first comment because yes, that's what summarizes how I feel every time I write this. So, THANK YOU. 
> 
> Also, this is my tumblr in case anyone wants to scream or share haikyuu love with me (?????).  
> ellehletoile.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

Tooru couldn't do this. It was too much to handle and there was no among of love in the world that could made him go through with it. 

"I'm done," he let go of Kenma's hands and stood up, stretching his fingers nonstop. "Why do you do this to me? Haven't I've been good to you, Kenma? Why would you torture my fingers with _this_ ," Tooru took the red string between his fingers and looked at it with disgust distorting his features. "And red, from all colors! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I don't plan to specialize in that kind of death, so no, I'm not," Kenma's eyes left him, Tooru's fuss not worth of attention anymore. 

Tooru could see the reason behind the obsessing way Kenma was playing all the games that he could fine or come up with. He could see it because he was trying to find something that helped him stop thinking, too. He was having a difficult time to find anything to distract himself with, though for the look in Kenma's face, that didn't seemed to work very well either. It hadn't even been six days and they were all losing their minds. 

Suga spent his full days watching the world below from their clouds, barely eating, barely sleeping. Tooru had had to carry him to their dorm three days ago and forced him to eat something before pushing him to bed. It had worked for three hours, before the other shinigami sneaked out of his room and back to the limit of their cloud, as if there was a magnet that forced him to stay, glued to the fluffy surface, eyes seeking with despair what awaited for him below. 

They hadn't talked anymore about what to do or how could Suga get closer to Hajime without actually interacting with Daichi. Tooru wasn't even sure if he wanted to know the answer to that. He had broken his promise of not speaking to Iwaizumi quite faster than what he even thought himself capable of (just five days and it had been the loneliest days he could remember ever living). Planning _with_ Suga Hajime's death was something that was completely impossible for Tooru right now. There was too much to do and say and feel and there was not enough time or life or fairness to do it. So, Tooru had decided to ignore the fact for the moment, reveling in his misery and his loneliness. 

"I think you should go check on Suga again," Kenma's voice was small, like always, but the concern in it was loud enough for it to pick Tooru's interest. 

"I will go pick him up when dinner time comes."

"That's not what I meant, Tooru," he gazed at Kenma, who was pointing at something outside the window. "I think he just jumped to the world below."

"Wha—Damn!"

When Tooru reached the end of the cloud the only thing his eyes could see was the world below them, tiny roads with tiny cars filled with tiny people living tiny lives. From their privileged seat, the world of the living looked like a game a small kid would play; it seemed easy and small and controllable, but Tooru had to hold his breath, holding the cloud with strength enough for the cold water inside to cut him. It seemed defenseless when the truth was, all those tiny living beings had the absolute power over Tooru's future. He felt it so strong while he looked for Suga everywhere. Humans alive were his rope as he was the weapon rose to kill them. 

When he found him, Tooru gasped with despair. Iwaizumi was in the Owl's —trust Iwaizumi to have a pattern easy enough to figure out— and Suga had just trespassed the door and was walking straight to him, his face full of resolve. He was going to do it without even warning Tooru. 

_Damn you, Suga, damn you!_

Tooru wanted to jump as well, but his body was paralyzed. He was scared to death but at the same time the shinigami inside him was screaming so loud that Tooru could not hear his own thoughts anymore. _This is what it's meant to happen, don't you see? Hajime has to die, that's what life is. And Suga… he is going to do it for you, so you can keep being what you are for eternity._ For eternity, Oikawa. Isn't that what you've always wanted? 

But while Suga stopped in front of his human, Tooru didn't know anymore what he wanted or what it was meant to be. 

All he knew was that the reality of Hajime's death in Suga's hands was heavier in his soul than any other burden he could have ever carried before. He knew, because he felt it in his core, that this was wrong; Suga was not meant to kill Iwaizumi but Tooru had no strength in him to stop it from happening.

He just stood there, holding the cloud, hands bleeding black blood, watching his world crashing beneath him. 

 

Sugawara Koushi was trembling. He couldn't feel cold, or warmth; he couldn't smell the snow when it was cold enough, nor could he tell when his soul was too close to reach hell. He was a shinigami: he had been human once, so long ago that his memory couldn't recall it; and once dead (too early, before he could reach the meaning of his lifetime) he had been chosen to follow the path of the Gods of Death. And death he had become, but now he was trembling, although his body couldn't feel anything else than the terror crawling inside his veins full of black blood. He stood in front of the Owl's door for what it felt like an eternity (maybe it was, Suga was unable to control time once he lost sight of the only being for which time mattered) and the only thing he managed to do was tremble. 

It shouldn't have felt so wrong, doing the right thing. It shouldn't feel like a betrayal to Oikawa and Daichi, but guilt had his fangs deep in Suga's throat and there was no way to deny it. Suga was scared of doing what he was meant to do. And he was scared because killing Tooru's human would mean that his human was meant to die as well. _Soon._

Suga was a good student. Not a genius, like Kageyama, and not a prodigy, like Oikawa. He had had his training and he could empathize better than all the others shinigamis in it, and so he had stayed and he had climbed inside the ranks until he had became a chosen one. He didn't fooled himself thinking that this —be able to kill a human and take his soul home for the first time— was the reward of all those years of hard work. He knew what he had done (fall in love, of all things) was taboo. He shouldn't have fallen in love and he shouldn't had kept being in love. The right thing to do, when he had realized what a stupid thing he had done, would had been to let Daichi go, forget about him, go back to the long path that awaited ahead of him. He had failed miserably carrying out the right thing the first time and so now he faced failure with double the pressure. 

_I can do this. I am this. I can do this._

He kept repeating this like a mantra while he entered the shop and headed to Iwaizumi who, unaware of the death that was coming toward him, drank his coffee almost as if it was his god and he was worshiping him. 

_He is Tooru's_. And he was Daichi's as well. And he was alive and enjoying coffee, something so small and unnoticeable, like a blessing. He was alive and Suga had to build up the strength to kill him, this stranger who had the power to break two of the most important men in Suga's life. Tooru was going to hate him so much, Suga thought while he said:

"Good morning. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

His hand was trembling again and his voice had sounded too high to go unnoticed, but Iwaizumi didn't even flinch. In fact, he acted like Sugawara hadn't said anything at all. 

"Ehm. Excuse me?" Suga inclined his body until he was almost on top of the table, in the direct line of sight of Iwaizumi, but no reaction was given again. "Excuse me, sir, I'm talking to you." _Why does this kind of attitude remind me so much of Tooru._ But once again, Iwaizumi just took a sip of his coffee and keep reading the sports magazine in his hands, not even a blink to show he at least noticed Suga's presence. 

Suga had a kind, patient personality, but there was so much a person could handle before crashing it. 

"Can you at least acknowledge that I am here, damn human?" he growled, both hands in the table now, making the coffee spill over the magazine. Suga watched Iwaizumi trying to clean the mess with a smirk he didn't use often; but when the human just cursed in a low voice and sighed (not even a glance away from the coffee and the magazine, not even a brow raised), Suga couldn't help but feel uneasy. There was a limit for how much a person could fake and this had just surpassed it. Doubt and panic blended inside Suga when the uneasiness started whispering in his head. 

_This is not going to work_ , he comprehended, paralyzed. Iwaizumi couldn't see him, not hear him and obviously not feel even his presence. Humans were not meant to see death when their time had yet to come, but humans _felt_ their fated ones even if they couldn't see them all the time. That was the basic rule of humanity, but as with all the rules, there was some exceptions to it; humans too sensitive to the hidden worlds that lived around them; humans that were not only fated to die but had a third eye that made them capable to see things that regular humans couldn't see. 

Suga had thought his Daichi was one of those humans and, for extension, that Iwaizumi was one as well. But Suga was invisible, not only to his eyes but to his senses and a shiver went through all his body, breaking the small string of hope that connected him to reality. He lifted his arm and reached for Iwaizumi's head in a daze, fingers glowing in a white-greenish light that was bright in his eyes as well. He had wanted to take Iwaizumi in a better way, in a safer place, with more care and more logic, but the fear inside his heart was getting the best of him and he could not control his instincts anymore. _If I can kill him it will mean that I won't have to kill Daichi myself. If I can kill Iwaizumi it will mean that I'm not Daichi's fated death._

The tip of his fingers were an inch away from Iwaizumi's forehead when a strong grip stopped his movement. 

"What are you doing?" Tooru's voice sounded breathless, like the fall from heaven had taken all the air from his lungs. "This is not how you are supposed to do this."

Suga couldn't reply, he couldn't think, _he couldn't feel more than the rising panic, panic eating his insides and his consciousness and his dead heart and his logic mind._ He was watching Tooru with wide-opened eyes now, shining in green and white unable to move his body, to shut the shinigami down, to _breath._

"Oikawa? What the fuck are you doing?"

They both flinched and Tooru froze, his eyes locked with Suga's, mirroring that fear they both were drowning into. 

"He can't see me," whispered Suga, eyes coming back to normal, tears watering them up. "I can't kill him, Tooru, because he is not meant to be mine."

Tooru wanted to scream. It was so obvious, now that they faced it. Hajime had been his since that first time so many years ago and it had been stupid and naive to believe the price for his sins would be so easily averted. 

"I will have to kill Daichi."

_And I will have to kill Hajime._

"Shittykawa, can you explain why the heck are you ignoring me so bluntly? And why are you holding your arm like that?" 

Tooru left his grip in Suga's arm with painful slowness. He was still unable to confront Iwaizumi's gaze and so he cleared his throat, putting a cocky-happy mask over his troubled expression before turning to face him. 

"Yahoo~, Iwa-chan! Surprise!" 

"What is wrong with you?"

"Your grumpy face hurts my sensibility! But don't worry, Iwa-chan, I will find someone blind enough to appreciate you either way."

Without taking his gaze away from Iwaizumi, Tooru whispered to Suga:

"Just leave."

"But Tooru—"

"Go!"

Suga disappeared without a sound, leaving Tooru alone with his fate. 

 

"It took you long enough," Iwaizumi was reading his magazine still, ignoring Oikawa's presence across the table. No waitress came to pick his order, but none of them pointed out the fact that most people were unable to see him. 

"To recognize what an ugly face you have?"

Iwaizumi's feet hit Oikawa in the leg. Hard. 

"Ow! That hurts."

"Your existence hurts me as well," Iwaizumi took a sip of his coffee and missed the pained expression in Oikawa's eyes. "So?"

"So, what?"

"Why did you took so long to come back?"

"Business," he answered, moving with disquiet in his seat. He didn't lie to Iwaizumi very often, but there were some truths that could never be shared.

"I thought you were dead."

He was dead, in fact, but Tooru tried to answer the most honestly he could.

"I'm still breathing, as you can see."

"I'm really mad at you for shutting out for a damn week, you know," Iwaizumi left the cup in the table and confronted Oikawa with his dark, serious eyes that made weird things to Tooru's insides. "I know— I know there's a lot you cannot share with me, but— Just disappearing like that has no excuse. You are supposed to be here or at least let me know that you are still— alive," _or whatever you are._ Iwaizumi nodded, almost as if he was praising himself for saying everything he wanted to say, and he went back to his magazine. 

Tooru had to control the urge of reaching across the table and hug him. He had missed his Iwa-chan so much that his heart hurt. He missed the stupid conversations, and the deep ones; he missed being cozy and he missed the shared silence; and he missed the warm he could feel when he touched Hajime's skin. 

"Do you have plans for tonight?" Tooru heard himself say before he could stop the words from leaving his lips. 

Iwaizumi watched him with an arched brow before he shrugged.

"Do you have some idea?"

"Aliens and pizza!" he said out and loud, his face lightening a bit to the idea of this date they had millions of times before but meant so much every single time anyway. 

"Seems good to me. Are you staying over?"

Tooru's insides did something weird again at the question and he had to restrain a shiver of excitement. 

"Yep! Pajama-party time!"

Iwaizumi growled but Tooru could see the tips of his mouth moving up in a warm smile. 

 

Tooru chose the movie, _like always_ ; he chose the pizza (who doesn't want chicken with pineapple and four different cheeses, Iwa-chan), _like always_. He had taken off his shinigami uniform (quite similar to a temple priest's clothes but all black) and had put on the universe pajamas that Iwaizumi had given him some years ago ( _and Tooru left in his house for all those nights he ended up spending there_ ). He was sat in the couch, legs wrapped under him, hugging a pillow while he watched Iwaizumi put the DVD on. 

"This is going to be so good, Iwa-chan!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Iwaizumi sat beside him, arms and legs brushing against Tooru with every small movement of their bodies. It was an usual thing for them both, the soft touch of their skins, the heat from the other, the silence shared, the _moment_. They had done it thousands of times before, but this time, when Iwaizumi brushed against Tooru's arm, he was so overwhelmed that all his body shivered. It felt like the small, tiny dot where Hajime's skin had touched Tooru spread through all his body in a second. 

Tooru got still by instinct, taken aback by the absolute power Iwaizumi had over him. It had been only a week and he was this needy of contact that even his body had felt relief when Tooru had finally given himself that small pleasure he had been denying himself the past few days. It was almost pathetic and for sure it was pitiful. If this was not Tooru's situation and if this wasn't so scary, Tooru might had been laughing his ass off to the picture. A God of Death craving human contact so much that a mere brush had him holding a sight of satisfaction. 

_You are so doom_ , he thought to himself, no amusement in that absolute truth. 

"Are you ok?" Tooru gazed at Hajime, who was looking at him with an eyebrow arched. "You aren't paying any attention to that shitty movie you forced me to put on, are you?"

"I am paying attention! This is a master piece and I'm treating it like the art it is."

But Tooru couldn't fool Iwa-chan's sharp gaze and so he threw himself in Iwaizumi's lap, wrapping his legs on top of the couch, ear pressed against Iwaizumi's thight. He couldn't face Hajime's eyes when they were so full of worry and care; not when he was hiding so much in his own eyes that could never be revealed. 

Hajime didn't complain about Tooru's head in his lap. In fact, after some minutes of absolute silence only broken by the loud sounds of the movie, Hajime's hand found his way into Tooru's hair and started caressing him. The way his fingers moved was almost shy, the same pattern repeated over and over again, that kind of movement that comes from body memory and not from a conscious action carried with purpose. It was understanding that Iwaizumi had gotten so used to touch Tooru in that kind of knowing-and-not-thinking way what almost broke Tooru in half. 

He didn't want to lose this; he didn't want to break this; he couldn't think about taking away this precious moment of reality and for his divine existence, he could not get back to heaven and face his brothers with the knowledge that he didn't know what to do anymore. 

Chest tight, his throat so close that he wasn't sure he could ever speak again, he said, low and scared:

"Can I stay here for a while?"

Hajime's fingers halt for a second at the question, showing to Oikawa that he had been heard. The hesitation didn't last long, though, and within a moment Iwaizumi's fingers were creating path in his hair again, slow and tender. 

"Sure," Tooru held his breath for a second, knowing, almost as if he could read Iwaizumi's thoughts, what he was going to say next. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No." 

_It must be serious, then,_ Hajime thought to himself, full of worry, _if he doesn't even want to complain about it._ Tooru had the amazing ability of complaining about everything that was trivial for hours, but when the matter actually hit close to his heart, he would shut himself down and never say a word about it. That was one of the hints Hajime looked for to know when he had to be really worried. 

But knowing the deepness of the matter didn't made Hajime press on it. He knew Tooru well enough to know that he would open up eventually, when he was ready; or, in case that didn't go through, when something trigged him and broke his emotional dam. 

"Ok. But from now on just pay attention to the damn movie."

Tooru didn't reply, he was too busy listening to the steady heartbeat against his ear, the reassurance that in that precise moment, Iwaizumi was still alive and was still his. _Bum, bum, bum._

It sounded almost as gunshots that were fading away little by little. 

Just as Hajime's time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you are enjoying it ???? and the angst it's just starting so… get ready for the ride!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of attempt at suicide in this chapter. Be aware!

It was a funny thing, how the sunlight could hurt so much even with one's eyes closed. Tooru was sound asleep and the next second, the sun was warming his checks and drawing shadows into his closed eyes, like a brush painting softly with light. If Tooru wasn't so tired and if he hadn't felt so warm and comfortable with all the warmth around him, he could have enjoyed it, the sun, the draw, that beautiful moment of waking up, embracing the day. 

But the truth was, Tooru wanted to sleep more, and wanted to keep the dream a bit longer. The bed felt too good against his skin to wake up, but the sun, as with everything else, didn't care much about what Tooru wanted. Reluctant, he forced his eyes open and he had to hold his breath for a moment to the sight that was waiting him at the other side of his eyelids.

He should have thanked the sun, he thought, while he drank the view that was Hajime fast asleep, his brow relaxed, his mouth a bit opened, his face in shadow with the sunlight outlining him. He looked like a dream coming to live; maybe a miracle to Tooru, who's breath was caught in his chest to the beauty of his human in that precise moment, light and asleep, snoring and warm against him. They were tangled, limbs between limbs, a weird hug half way, their faces so close that Iwaizumi's breath caressed Tooru's check every two seconds (Tooru counted them because he had this idea that if he was able to control time he would be able to lengthen Hajime's). Iwaizumi was holding him to his chest, an arm around his waist. It was a hug and a cage, but how Tooru felt more than anything was… safe. 

_"You are mi safe place, Hajime."_

He had said that to Iwaizumi some nights ago and it was true. If he had been another kind of god, Tooru was pretty sure that Hajime would have been his temple and not only his faith. Tooru kept looking at him, breathing in and out, asleep but alive, holding Tooru as if the god was something precious and worth protecting. He rose his hand, shy and insecure, until the tips of his fingers found Hajime's chin, and Tooru caressed his skin as if he was afraid of staining him; or maybe break him with that soft and scared touch. He had his gaze focused on the point were his fingers brushed Hajime, so warm and so soft, with that steady _bum, bum, bum_ under them, low but present. Unable to hold himself, Tooru started to move his fingers: along his jawline, his cheekbones, his nose, his lips and all over again. The touch was barely there, so afraid was Tooru to touch him (although his body was almost in top of Iwaizumi, but for some reason, in Tooru's eyes, his hand tracing Hajime's face with reverence was too dangerous, because it said too much). 

Tooru had to bit his lower lip to contain the strong feeling that overwhelmed him then. This moment was perfect. It was too hot under the covers, and the sun was hitting him directly in the eyes; the edge of his pants was pressed uncomfortable into his side, while Iwaizumi's arm under him started to hurt his neck. But although there was physical discomfort, Tooru had to blink his tears away to stop them from falling. He stared at Iwaizumi with astonishment and bliss. It was not as if this was the first time they had slept together like this. Tooru was quite needy and he had started asking Iwaizumi for more attention around the same time he figured out he was in love with him. It was not the new of the situation, but the quotidian of it. It was Hajime, asleep in his embrace, the sun kissing him just like Tooru wanted to do. It was Tooru, cared enough to wake up like this. 

It was too much; Tooru was a wreck and a mess and he bit his lip harder to stop himself from saying something he would regret later. He had to bit strong enough to make blood, though, because the compulsion of confessing his love was such that without that physical restrain, he would have said it a thousand times by now. 

" 'ood mornin'," Tooru watched Iwaizumi blink himself awake and once again, his lungs forgot how to work properly. They were so close that the god was able to tell the ten different tones of brown that created Iwaizumi's beautiful eyes and it was too much to handle.

"Good morning," he whispered in response, his hand still in Hajime's chin, his fingers glued to the tender and warm skin. 

"Have you been awake for long?"

"Not much."

"Have you been watching me sleep all that time?"

"Nope."

Hajime's eyebrow rose in a clear _I don't believe any of the shit you are saying, Oikawa, but I will play the game._ Tooru had to control himself again to not reach across their bodies and kiss Hajime senseless. He wanted him so badly… and it was such a bad idea to even be here, much more thinking about starting a physical relationship just now.

Because the truth was, as much as Tooru wanted to kiss Hajime and embrace Hajime and do all sort of stuff to that body of his, Tooru had never in his life carried it away. In the gods absurdly vast vision, what he and Hajime shared was a relationship normal enough to be called only friendship; he was the weird one here. He had never given a second thought about how Hajime would feel about him because Hajime being in love with him was, maybe, the more painful, awful and wonderful thing that could ever happen to Tooru. 

And Tooru wasn't the type to face things straight; he was the sort of person who ignored the pain until it was life-or-death kind of situation and was forced to confront it. 

"Do you want breakfast?"

"I would love breakfast, thank you very much."

Iwaizumi's half closed eyes stayed a bit longer in Tooru's face, maybe enjoying the view, maybe just trying to decipher what was making Tooru's expression seem so pained. He didn't comment on it, though, since that was not how Hajime and Tooru faced their issues, and after a moment, he caressed Tooru's fingers with his chin in a slow, cat-like movement of his head and got out of bed.

Tooru hid under the covers, his hand pressed against his heart, his face heated with a growing blush. His heartbeat sounded furious in his ears and he bit his lip again to shut down a moan of happiness, or maybe of pure pain, he wasn't sure. Hajime had answered Tooru's conscious caress with one of his own and the gods knew, because he had been three centimeters from Hajime's eyes, that his human was wide awake and conscious of what he was doing. 

_This is too much for my heart_ , Tooru thought. _I want him so badly and I can't have him. Not ever._

He stayed there, protected by the sheets and the weight of the blanket, until Iwaizumi called him from the kitchen. Tooru thought about staying there for eternity, like a prison, _just you and me, Hajime, in this bed, without gods or masters or death that can take us apart. Just you and me and this bed, away from reality._

But Iwaizumi called him again, pissed off this time, and Tooru understood that there was no bed and no prison that could prevent what was meant to happen. 

With a sigh, he got out of bed and headed to his human. 

 

"We need to talk… about… hum, you staying here."

They were eating their food in silence. Tooru wasn't a morning person. He had a fucked up sleep habits since he coped stress depriving himself from any sleep and over thinking everything over and over again. The last week had been the most sleep deprived one he could ever remember having and although he was dead and he was a god, there was so much a body could handle. Last night had been the first one that Tooru had slept through and he wasn't fond of the idea of confronting the day ahead. 

Tooru did lie to himself very often, but that morning he couldn't avoid the problem that presented itself at ten o'clock going through the main door. 

They should had talked it before, Tooru knew it. They should had come out with a plan, an awkward conversation were none of them openly accepted the truth of Tooru's existence, but decided how to act in relation to it. But how could have they thought so further ahead, thought Tooru with wry amusement, when the god had been so needy and had yearned so long for Iwaizumi's presence that had left no space for words. 

"I'm home!"

Iwaizumi's eyes opened with panic as they heard the door close and sounds from the corridor. Tooru watched Hajime move his hands, not knowing what to do: if hide Tooru (why would he do that, when Kuroo wouldn't be able to see him anyway), to hide the plates in front of him (it would be easier to just lie) or jump away from the table to ignore the fact that, when Kuroo trespassed the kitchen's door, the only person he would see would be Hajime, eating alone. 

"I'm going to the room," Tooru said, slow and plain. He stood with a fluid movement and with three steps, he closed himself in Hajime's room, almost able to hear his human let out a sigh of relief. 

_I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of the bed._

But it had been inevitable. Hajime didn't live alone and Hajime was human and Tooru was not and the fact remained that he was dead and the only human that could see him for now was Hajime. Tooru could love him like the earth loved the sun, but reality didn't care much about love or about Tooru or even about what was fair and what was not. Tooru's love for Iwaizumi didn't matter a bit because his love couldn't make him visible and couldn't save Hajime and didn't change anything about their situation. In truth, it had been Tooru's love what had led them into this impossible circumstances. It had been Tooru's selfishness: to feel a bit more cared, to seek warmth, to have a heart, what had taken them to be forced to face this. If there was someone they had to blame, it was Tooru.

The god let out a gasp and fell into the ground, his face hidden into his hands, tears no longer able to be kept at bay. 

 

"Good morning, sunshine!" sung Kuroo while he entered the Kitchen, a big bag in his hand and two coffees in the other. "I brought you breakfast!"

"If that's your repay for all the food you ate yesterday, I will kick you out of the apartment," Hajime's hands were trembling non stop, but he managed to hide the shake in his voice. 

Kuroo smirked at him while he put on several plates all the bakery he had brought. 

"I would let you know that this," he said pointing to the seven pastries sat in front of Hajime, "are worth three times what I ate yesterday."

"Those pastries aren't going to feed me for the rest of the week, Kuroo, do you get that? And anyway," Hajime took a piece of cake and bit it, "this is from the Owl's. That's cheating. Bokuto didn't make you pay shit for this, am I right?"

"Man, you are too smart for me," Kuroo sat down in front of Hajime, in the same chair Oikawa had been mere seconds before. Iwaizumi had to force himself to swallow the piece of cake he had in his mouth, that suddenly had turned in ash in his tongue. 

He couldn't help but wonder… was Kuroo able to feel the heat in the chair left by Oikawa? Did Oikawa even leave warmth around him? Hajime caught himself in the thought. Had he ever felt the _warmth_ of Tooru's skin? He always felt warmth when he was near him, but now that he was trying to pick a memory of it out of his brain, he couldn't recall a specific moment where he felt it directly from him. 

"This is so good," Kuroo closed his eyes while he ate a chocolate muffin. "That shrimp is a fucking miracle. I can't even believe that Bokuto had the luck to keep him."

"You mean, Hinata?" Hajime tried another bite of the cake, but the uneasiness about Oikawa existence had taking away his ability to taste anything. He left the food on the plate again and crossed his arms in his chest. 

"Yep."

Hajime thought about the redhead (it was a good way to put his thoughts away from the person who awaited for him in his room). Hinata gave the impression of luck itself. He was sun and he was bright and he was happy and excited all the time and Hajime couldn't remember anyone (maybe Oikawa, but now was not the time to think about him) that put so much effort in the things they loved. Bokuto and Hinata were quite similar, but there was something that Hinata had that Bokuto lacked and it was maybe that what made his presence in Bokuto's store a lucky turn of events. 

"I think Hinata is good for Bokuto," he mumbled softly. "I mean, they are both quite the excited type, but Hinata has this…" a bit uncomfortable with the topic, Hajime shifted in his chair and didn't finish the sentence but Kuroo, being Bokuto's best friend, didn't need to hear the rest of it. 

He nodded in agreement while he took another muffin, a strawberry and mango one this time. "Light, yeah. I'm glad that the shrimp decided to stick around, to be honest. I know that Bokuto and Tsukki get along well and have a nice partnership and all, but Kei is too gloomy. And you know, when Bokuto gets… tired, I think Hinata's personality helps him cop with it, at least a bit."

Hajime watched Kuroo finish the muffin with a shadow darkening his eyes. He felt guilty to bring the topic about Bokuto's dark times, since he knew how much it pained Kuroo to not be able to be there for him when he needed help. 

"You know, he is better lately," Iwaizumi took a sip of the coffee Kuroo had brought him and had to contain a moan of pleasure. Damn drug, it was too much and not enough. "And even if you are away, Hinata, Daichi and me —even Tsukishima, in the worst scenario—, we are here for him. You can't change your life to save anyone, Tetsuroo."

"I know that," Kuroo had his gaze in the empty plate in front of him, his shoulders a bit down, his spiky hair pointing at Iwaizumi. "I know that, it's just… He has been there for me every time I needed help, and I know I've been there for him too, but since…" Hajime heard Kuroo clear his throat of the tears he would never shed before he could continue. "Since that happened, I've been thinking more and more about me being here. Maybe I should change the kind of jobs I pick for a while. I mean, yeah leaving for risky places is well paid, but I have enough savings for…"

"Kuroo," Iwaizumi's voice was cutting and Kuroo lifted his guilty gaze to watch him shaking his head. "Bokuto would hate you if you did that. I mean, what kind of idiot do you think he is?"

"A big, kind one."

"True, but he is not stupid. We all know how much you love your job, Kuroo. It won't go unnoticed if you suddenly decide to stick around."

"So what. I should just keep leaving and if the worst happens again, stick with it?"

Hajime shuddered. "Yes," Kuroo grimaced. "Kuroo, we are here. Bokuto is our friend too. I know it's not the same, but he is better now. He had been going to a therapist for a while now, you know that. And he doesn't get as gloomy as before. You know that if anything went wrong, I would call you. Why would you put your life in stand-by, when that is not going to help anyone?"

"Because I care."

Hajime could not reply to that, because he could understand it. He could see a bit of himself in that answer, and he thought of Oikawa in his room, hidden away because none of them could face that what he was had left a scar in their lives. 

"I'm not going to tell you what to do, Kuroo," Iwaizumi took another sip of his coffee, a good way to take away the sour taste of his thoughts. "Just think about it. You have a life, you have a job that you love. If you really want to stick around, don't make it about Bokuto."

Kuroo didn't answer. He was playing with the edge of his cup absently. They stayed there for some minutes, in a shared silence. Hajime found himself thinking about Oikawa (it was a bad habit that he really needed to change), while Kuroo just had his gaze in his cup and his fingers. 

Hajime had lifted once more his coffee to take the last sip of it when Kuroo talked again. "I've been thinking about death this past few weeks," he confessed, his gaze still focused in the coffee, almost as if he wasn't even talking to Hajime, almost as if he just needed to throw up all the feelings that were weighting his soul. "You know, since Bokuto did… I mean, it's just something I've never gave too much thought. We are in our late twenties. What is death for us?" at his question, a shiver went through all Hajime's body. "But… when I visited him in the hospital and I saw him in that bed, I just… It struck me. How fragile life is. We could just go anytime and we wouldn't even notice it. Or even worse, someone you care about could just disappear, like that," Kuroo shaped his fingers, startling Hajime with the loud sound. He realized then Kuroo had been talking so low it was almost a whisper. 

"Is that were all of this staying here shit is coming from?"

"If you could treat my feelings with a bit less of condescendence I would appreciate it."

Hajime raised his hands in an apologizing sign. "I didn't intend to sound judging. It's just… Kuroo, it's the fear of almost losing Bokuto what is moving you now. I mean, if you know it and you want to stay here none the less, be my guest. But death has always been a reality. Bokuto's case was… I mean, I get it, but dude, you live from risking your life to take the best picture. How could you not notice before how _fragile_ life is?"

Kuroo averted Iwaizumi's gaze then and Hajime understood that there was a piece missing in there. There was something else bothering his friend, to the point were he had started to rethink his passions and his life. 

"Are you going to stay here longer than usual, then?" Iwaizumi hated himself for the double edged question. He cared for Kuroo (he lived with the guy, how could he not) but the truth was, he had a hidden reason to know his answer (and that reason was still hid in his bedroom and was probably mad at him, and Iwaizumi hoped he was not crying because his guilty quota was full for today and for the week and maybe for the next year). 

"No," Hajime let out a relieved sight to the answer and the culpability he was feeling almost drowns him. "I accepted a job some months ago that I couldn't turn down even if I wanted. I will probably be out for a month, maybe less." Kuroo looked at him then, all seriousness in his face. It struck Hajime sometimes, how serious and caring Kuroo could look. He wore his smirk and his joking mask so often that Iwaizumi sometimes forgot how much Kuroo could care about things. "Will you take care of him while I'm not here? I will try to figure out my shit while I'm gone, but If anything happens…"

"Tetsuroo, you don't even have to ask. I will be there for Bokuto if he needs anything and you know it."

"I know. I know," he took a deep breath. "Thank you. And now that we have destroyed the happy mood of the day, I'm gonna take a shower and buy you real food."

Hajime lifted his cup in a clear _cheers to that, mate_ and let Kuroo take his shower, while he tried to decide how to face Oikawa. 

 

He was mad, all right. More than mad, he was pouting like a child (typical Oikawa reaction, really). He was in the bed, legs hugged against his chest and his hurted gaze burning the door when Hajime got inside. It was a hard sight to look at, since Hajime had to restrain himself from jumping into his bed and chase that sad smirk away from Tooru's lips with his own. 

"I'm sorry," he walked slowly to the bed, lilke a tamer would do with a wild, scared beast. He sat in the edge of the bed, opposite side of Oikawa, and he half smiled at him. "I won't let this happen again, I promise."

"You can't promise such thing," Oikawa blurted out, hugging harder his legs against him. Hajime felt a grasp into his heart at how vulnerable Oikawa looked. "This will happen again and you know it. This is just inevitable."

"Don't say that," Hajime's whisper was filled with hurt and Tooru must had heard it, since he shifted his position to get a bit closer to Iwaizumi. "Kuroo is leaving tomorrow first thing in the morning. He will be out for a month, probably. I don't know how long you want to…" unable to finish the sentence, Iwaizumi averted his gaze and blushed a bit, making Tooru's dead heart beat a bit faster. "I don't know how long you are planning to stay, but at least for the next weeks you won't need to… hide."

Tooru rested his head into the back of Iwaizumi's shoulder, the only contact point between them both. He caressed him with his forehead a bit, still hugging himself. All of this situation was a mess and Tooru knew what the right thing to do was— and that was not staying here during all that promised month of time alone with his Iwa-chan. 

After some moments, Iwaizumi raised his hand and caressed Tooru's head, as he usually did when Tooru threw himself into his lab and demanded some attention. It was soft and it felt so good that Tooru wanted to whimper. I love you, I love you, I love you. The thought burned him like the fires of hell. 

They stayed like that for seconds, or maybe hours, or even lifetimes. Tooru didn't care much about time, not when he was with Iwaizumi and not when time was running so fast away from his fingers. He had his face hidden from Iwaizumi, and the tears he had so much trouble keeping at bay came again. He didn't make a sound, he just let them fell, one by one, each one a reminder of what this meant. 

"I can go rent some sic-fi movies, if you want," Hajime said, low, his hand still in Tooru's head. "I can buy popcorns and we can do a movie's day?" Tooru nodded against his shoulder, unable to speak. "Ok, then. I will go take a shower now that Kuroo has finished."

"Isn't he going to be around?" Tooru's voice sounded broken and hoarse. 

"He will probably spend the day with Bokuto."

They couldn't face each other gaze, not when the reality of Tooru's existence was so close to the surface of their conversation. They averted each other, guilt crawling inside of them both. Iwaizumi patted Tooru's face one more time before he stood up and started to grab his clothes. Their eyes kept focusing into others stuff —the pattern of the bed sheets, where is the drawer of my underwear, oh yes I just closed it; Iwa-chan should clean his window, the glass is quite dirty— until Iwaizumi got out of the room with a low mumble of words Tooru didn't bother to understand. 

When Hajime closed the door behind him, leaving Tooru alone again, the god let himself fell into the bed, his nose breathing Hajime's scent. 

"Oh, Hajime, I'm supposed to kill you but at this rate you are going to be the death of me, not the other way around."

It was a sad thought, but for a second there, Tooru couldn't help but think… how a wonderful way to save Hajime that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for reading! I hope you are liking it!! Thanks for those comments and kudos!! <33 Feel free to find me in my tumblr here:
> 
> ellehletoile.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update. This was supposed to be fluff and adorableness but… 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

"Oi, Shittykawa, wake up." 

Tooru growled low in his throat and clinged harder to Iwaizumi's waist. "No," he whimpered, eyes firmly closed. "Five more minutes."

"It's one in the morning and I have to wake up in six hours. Let me at least move us to the bed."

"No!"

Hajime let out a heavy breath of exasperation. They were in the couch, both lied down, Iwaizumi embracing Tooru who has crawled into a bowl against his chest. He had fallen asleep half way to their fourth movie and had clung to Hajime as if his life depended on it. It hadn't bothered him at all, if Hajime was honest with himself. It gave him the opportunity to hug him and touch him and feel him close enough as to not be scared of him disappearing again. 

"Come on, this couch is the most uncomfortable shit you can sleep on. Let's go to bed…"

"Then carry me!" Tooru hid his face into Iwaizumi's chest, shaking it and making soft lines with his nose in Hajime's skin. 

"Are you kidding me? You weight like a damn flock of cows," he hid his smile against Oikawa's hair when he heard the gasp Tooru let out in answer to his comment. 

"Rude! I can't believe you just compared me to so filthy animal." Tooru lifted his gaze and murdered Hajime with it for a second. "Your punishment is to carry me to bed and be my pillow for the rest of the night."

"Like I'm not your pillow every night?" Oikawa's cheeks burned red but he kept the pout in his mouth and the stubbornness in his eyes. Hajime was too weak for that gaze and those lips. He sighed again. 

"Get out of me and I will take you to bed, ok?"

"And Oikawa wins again!" he moved a bit so Hajime could stand up. He turned around to watch Tooru, completely lied down now, watching him from below with that amused gaze he always had when he teased Iwaizumi, and that soft and honest smile in his lips he always used when he was really himself. 

"Are you gonna make me go all the way down to the couch to pick you up? Help me a bit and stand up too."

"No, no. You have insulted my precious persona, now you have to pay the price," Tooru raised his arms as to show Iwaizumi how this was going to be. 

"Damn you, Shittykawa," with a fast and fluid moment, Hajime put his hands around Oikawa and lifted him as if he didn't weighted anything. Tooru, a bit surprised by the change in his gravity center, held Iwaizumi tight around his neck and tangled his legs around his waist. 

"Are you happy now?"

"I don't see the bed anywhere, Iwa-chan. Don't be so haughty when you have done half of the work."

"Do you wanna see what happens when your body crashes into the ground, Oikawa?"

"Mmmh, not today, but thanks for the proposition."

Hajime let out a huff that could meant he was pissed at Oikawa or that he found him absurdly amusing (who could tell, with that grumpy face of his) and walked them to the room. Tooru's nose was buried deep in his neck and he inhaled profoundly with every step that Iwaizumi took. He loved how close their bodies felt, how strong Iwaizumi's arms were around him, holding him, securing him against his body, all reassurance, all promises. I will protect you, I will always carry you, I won't let you fall. Who wouldn't fall in love with such a hug?

They reached their destination too soon, but Tooru contented himself with the thought that Hajime would have to be his pillow willingly for the night. Iwaizumi didn't let him go, though. He kept his embrace, his hands under Oikawa, his neck and heartbeat steady against Tooru's nose. 

"Are we going to sleep like this, Iwa-chan?" he said, finally after the moment got too long. 

Without a word, Iwaizumi threw Tooru into the bed, making the god bounce twice into the mattress. When he gazed Iwaizumi, his human had a stupid and childish smirk in his lips that made Tooru's heart skip some beats. 

"That is going to make your punishment worse."

"What is there worse than to share a bed with you, Shittykawa?"

Tooru threw a pillow to Hajime, who avoided it easily. The god screamed and threw a second one and a third that Hajime just evade without much difficulty. At the end of the one-sided pillow fight, Tooru's pout was permanent in his lips, while Iwaizumi couldn't stop his laughter. He stood, laughing out and loud, while Tooru could only watch him, so lively, so bright even when the room was dark and only the streetlights put some color into the room. He was struck again, by how beautiful Hajime was. 

While the laugh faded away and Iwaizumi noticed the intense gaze in Tooru's eyes, he felt his heartbeat start going faster and faster, the heat in his skin reaching the highest levels, the uneasiness crawling into him to the thought of being near Tooru all night long, with them touching in the most innocent way, although his thoughts were everything except innocent. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze, unable to face all the feelings that were written in Oikawa's eyes. 

"Let's get to bed. I will be dead tomorrow at work if I don't sleep at least the hours I have now."

Oikawa didn't say anything, he just took the blankets away and crawled inside the bed, leaving room for Iwaizumi. He followed his lead and got inside the blankets, all his side against Oikawa who, not wasting a second, put his arms and legs and head, against and around Iwaizumi and let out a sigh of pleasure. Hajime's hand rested into Oikawa's head and he pressed a soft kiss, almost inexistent, into Tooru's temple. 

"Good night, Tooru."

"Good night, Hajime."

 

The next morning was a rush. Oikawa looked like a sleepwalker. He was following Hajime up and down the apartment like a zombie, three steps behind all the human's actions. Hajime had woken up thirty minutes after his alarm went off, and so he was now with a rush to get to the clinic before his first patient got there. Tooru had his eyelids half closed and he was eating his breakfast absently (it was seven thirty in the morning, for god's sake, what ungodly hour to be awake) while Iwaizumi dressed and washed himself. By the time Oikawa had managed to finish half of his breakfast, Hajime was rushing to the door. 

Tooru stood and followed him, ready to say goodbye. Iwaizumi was putting his shoes on, his bag and jacket besides him in the floor. Tooru picked them up and waited until Iwaizumi was ready and in his feet again. 

"Ok, I'm leaving." Tooru gave him his things without a word and a tiny smile in his lips. "Thank you," said Iwaizumi, absently, and before none of them could react, he reached forward and kissed him in the lips.

It was the more normal, unconscious thing he had ever done, the impulse so natural although they had never done anything alike before. Their lips brushed, soft and warm and welcome and too familiar to be that their first kiss. Hajime blinked twice and he took a step back, red to the tip of his ears. Oikawa was watching him with his beautiful brown eyes open widely, staring at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. 

"Ahh, err— damn, I'm late. I will come back around eight. Don't burn the house down, ok? I'm leaving," he rushed outside the door, his face more red than what Tooru had ever seen before, leaving the god astonished and wide awake now, watching with surprise how the door closed and leaved him alone in the apartment. 

"Have a good day…" he whispered, still in shock. He stood there for minutes, unable to process what just happened until it finally reached his brain. It was Tooru's turn to turn bright red to the thought then. 

He brushed his lips and a soft smile escaped his control and took over his mouth and it stuck there until Hajime returned at eight, as promised. 

 

The second time they kissed was a bit less awkward. It was the second day after they started living together and Tooru had decided, in that impulsive-childish-kind-of-way he had sometimes, to make something to repay Iwaizumi for his kindness. And what was better than food, he had thought, standing in the kitchen, arms crossed against his chest, his universe pajamas shining brightly with the light of the room. He had no idea how to cook (in heaven, usually Suga or Freckles-chan were the ones in charge of the food) but Tooru hadn't seen the problem with that. He was a god, after all; what was cooking, for a almightily being like him?

Impossible, that was what Tooru understood that cooking was for a god like him after some hours. He tried everything: following recipes, improvising, trying to eat it himself first, mixing everything. He managed somehow to destroy a mere salad. Tooru was amazed by his ability to murder food with such easiness. And so, he had spent hours in the kitchen, trying dishes, trying to cut vegetables and ending breaking half of Hajime's cutlery; he tried deserts and ended up turning the kitchen's floor into a white mess. When Hajime came back home, tired to the core of his bones after twelve hours of work and got into the kitchen, he almost fell into his knees. 

It looked like a war field. There was some weird red substance sticked to the wall, the floor looked like a bright park after a heavy snow and Tooru… Hajime had mixed feelings to the sight that was Tooru in his kitchen, all messed up. His expression was of utter panic when he realized that Hajime was staring at him from the door. The room was a mess, and he was a mess, and Hajime wanted to cry when he thought how much food had been wasted, but when he saw the stickies in Oikawa's hair, and the way the blue in his pajamas had turned into a weird orange, and how his eyes were filled with apologies, just like a kid caught while messing around, Hajime's heart felt something weird. He didn't meet Oikawa when he was a kid (he didn't even know if Oikawa had been a kid at some point) but in that moment he was sure that this was exactly what little Oikawa would look like. This was this powerful creature that had stayed with Iwaizumi since he had memory, never growing up, never aging, and there he was, shining like a kid, innocent and beautiful, and the tenderness that took over Iwaizumi was such, that he just lost his breathing capacity for a moment. 

"Oh gods, Iwa-chan, I'm so sorry. This was… this was not how this was supposed to be."

"For your sake," he said, with a husky voice, "I hope so."

"It wasn't, I swear." Hajime watched Tooru panic a bit, looking around him and realizing for the first time in hours what a mess he had made of Hajime's kitchen. He started to stress himself out so much when he didn't find anywhere to start cleaning that he gazed Hajime again, anxiety bright in his eyes. "I just wanted to cook something for you, but see, I am not a good cooker."

"That's an statement," Hajime said, with an eyebrow arched with amusement. 

When Tooru recognized the sparkle of laughter in Iwaizumi's eyes, he put down his hands and stopped his body. "Aren't you mad?" he asked, low and scared, as much as the kid as Hajime had thought he was some minutes ago. The human sighed, loud, and smiled a bit at Tooru. 

"You are a mess," he pointed out, not answering his question. Tooru watched himself and his cheeks got red and hot to the sight he presented. Hajime left his bag and jacket in the couch and got into the kitchen, ready to start cleaning while he thought what kind of food they were going to order tonight. Tooru didn't move for a long moment, watching how Iwaizumi started cleaning the dishes and throwing away the broken ones. 

"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice thick and low. "It was supposed to be your dinner after a long day at work and now you just have to work more."

"If you start helping me, the sooner it'd be cleaned up and the sooner we can order food. So come here and help."

No answer came from Tooru and Hajime sighed again. "For your own good, I hope that you are not crying right now." But, ah, how much it pained him sometimes when he was right, because when he turned around and faced Tooru, his hands tight in the edge of his shirt, Iwaizumi couldn't help but shake his head. Tooru's lips were trembling, his eyes filled with tears and his cheeks dirty from god knew what. "Really? Are you going to do this now?"

Oikawa just nodded and Iwaizumi had to inhale deeply to hold himself, he didn't know if it was from bursting into laugher or from shaking Tooru until some sense got in to him. Without a sound, he just made a movement with his hand, inviting Tooru to come closer. The god took two steps and he was inside Hajime's hug, sniffing loud. 

"You are such an ugly crier, you know that, right?" 

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Gods, you are such a pain." Iwaizumi caressed Tooru's back in slow, calming circles until the whimpers softened and Oikawa started to breath normal again. "Are you better now?" Tooru nodded against Iwaizumi's shoulder. "Ok, then, let's just clean this so I can get at least two hours of sleep tonight."

Tooru took a step back and didn't confront Iwaizumi's gaze. He was too ashamed (for the mess, for what trying to cook for Hajime said about his feelings, about the tears, about wanting to be in Hajime's hold a bit longer) and so he hid himself away, fixing his eyes on the mess around and never in Iwaizumi. After some minutes of Tooru clumsily going around the kitchen without even a slight look at Hajime, the human let out a snort, grabbed Tooru by the wrist and kissed him with strength enough to make Tooru lose his breath. 

It was a bit longer, this time, maybe because Hajime did it with awareness, maybe because they both had had a full day to revel in yesterday's one and they both yearned to try it again. The reasons didn't matter much when Hajime pressed gently after some seconds against Tooru's lips, brushing tenderly the soft skin. It didn't matter much when he met Tooru's gaze and locked it with his eyes full of emotions that none of them were able to say out loud. 

It was when Tooru started to get rid of the surprise and getting really into the kiss when Hajime pulled away and cleared his throat. Tooru almost moaned with frustration when Iwaizumi scratched his neck while looking around once again. 

"Now that this is settled, let's just clean. It's gonna take us long enough at it is."

Tooru didn't reply but he didn't avert Hajime's gaze anymore during the rest of the night. 

 

"Do you ever wonder about what's there?" Tooru asked softly, the blanket wrapped around him tightly, Hajime pressed warmly against his back. 

They were outside, in Hajime's balcony, watching the stars that shined above the city. It was almost midnight and the city had quiet itself down a couple of hours before. Tooru sat comfortably in Iwaizumi's hug, his head resting against his shoulder, Iwaizumi's steady heartbeat against Tooru's shoulder blade. He didn't feel cold, but once again Tooru was dead so the top of his sensations came from Hajime's body. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, was quite cold and if it weren't for the three blankets they had around them, he would have died of hypothermia some hours ago. Hajime had his legs and his arms around Tooru, and he couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing with certainty if he was feeling warmth or coolness coming from Tooru's body. 

He rested his check against Oikawa's hair, trying to shut down the uneasiness in his chest, and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the night, clean smell and Oikawa's unique scent, that one of autumn leaves and the clear water running wild in spring. It calmed his nerves in a second and Hajime caught himself astonished again at how easy could Oikawa loosen his worries. 

"You mean, in space?" he answered, a hint of surprise in his question. He knew that Oikawa was something out of the ordinary and so, hearing that kind of question coming from the one he thought mystical and special was quite a shock. 

"Yes."

"Like aliens and stuff? I thought that was just an entertainment for you."

"Well, I do enjoy cinema, Iwa-chan," he said with disdain, and Hajime hid his smile in Oikawa's hair. "But I sometimes wonder…" Tooru rose his arm and pointed to the brighter star in the sky. "What powers are hidden behind that veil? Is every star in the sky bent to fate? Universe is still expanding but… are all of those stars or the new to come doom to exist? Is life a given? Not only for us but for the thousands of planets that have life for sure."

"I don't think that fate has much to do with anything, though," there was something in Tooru's words that bothered Hajime, but he couldn't quite point out what it was. 

"Why not? Fate moves and destroys our lives, why wouldn't it affect the whole universe as well?"

Hajime couldn't bring himself to answer, since there was no answer for that angry statement. Tooru hold Hajime's forearm with strength enough to leave the mark of his nails in it, but Iwaizumi was unable to understand what had infuriated him so much. He lacked words to comfort Oikawa and so Hajime tightened his hug and kissed him in his temple soft and gently. Tooru sighed, as if he was letting go of all the hurt that was filling him through that tender touch, and he shifted a bit against Hajime's body, getting their faces closer. 

Iwaizumi looked at him a bit from above, amazed by Tooru's eyes and the stars reflected in them. They looked like the universe itself, as beautiful as the sky above, as full of secrets as the cosmos around them. Tooru shifted again, just a bit, and their lips meet. And then Hajime couldn't think; not about hidden truths, or the dark corners of pain that hid in Tooru's eyes; not even in his own pain, that grew wider and huge with every secret that Tooru kept from him. 

Tooru kissed him as if his life depended on it. He didn't close his eyes and either did Hajime, such power had Tooru over him. It was that kind of _Tooru_ moment, a cry for help and a curtain drop at the same time. Hajime saw Tooru's eyes, but was so absorbed by that kiss, and the way Tooru's lips brushed against his, and the pain he felt when his teeth bit his mouth, and the way his tongue caressed his own with such emotion, that he couldn't process what was clear and bright in Tooru's eyes. When Tooru kissed Hajime like this, with all his emotions and truths there in the open, it took away all power of comprehension from Hajime's body. And Tooru knew it, oh, he knew it well enough. 

Hajime's brain was fucked up and his vision was full of Oikawa (and his nose was full of Oikawa's scent and his arms were full of cold skin or maybe it was warm skin, he wouldn't know because what was Tooru even), and although he couldn't think straight, his body knew well enough what was happening. Hajime couldn't think, but he could feel. He put his hands around Tooru's face —desperate to reach those truth that were there, tempting him but always, always out of his reach— and deepened the kiss until Tooru was moaning against him, and the blankets were lost somewhere on the floor, and Tooru was there, completely sat on top of Hajime, his arms around the human's neck and his legs around him as well and all of their bodies were against one another and Hajime lost perception about where Tooru begun and were Hajime ended. He kissed him with his heart in his tongue and his soul in his hands, and Tooru kissed him back with his heart in his tongue and his secrets in his hands, because he couldn't do anything else. 

They spent hours in that freezing balcony, embraced under the stars, only naked mouth brushing against naked mouth, both afraid that, if they dared to undress their souls a bit more, both of their worlds would crumble under their feet and throw them into the darkness. They yearned for a bit more of contact, Iwaizumi putting his frozen hands inside Tooru's shirt, caressing his back, trying to get him closer (as if that was possible), and Tooru just caressing Iwaizumi's chest like he needed that contact as much as he needed air to breath. But although they both wanted more and more and more and get lost in the other and never be found again, there was too much unsaid and too much fear and just… too much. They were so scared of breaking something as strong and fragile as it was their relationship that they didn't dare take that last step. 

It hadn't meant much to Iwaizumi, sex. He had had relationships and he had had casual sex and he had enjoyed it, sometimes more than others, but it never weighted and it never mattered so much, because Iwaizumi had kept his heart protected somewhere else, maybe in Tooru's hand, maybe in those childhood moments still bright in his memory. To Tooru, though, sex mattered, since it was Hajime, because the only lust he had ever felt was him. Hajime was sex and was love and was life and was a promise of something that would never be possible for Tooru, and so Tooru was so afraid to burn all those bridges that he couldn't find his courage anywhere. 

And so they kissed but nothing else. They gave up their hearts, but nothing else. Tooru kept his secrets, although he was willing to give his soul away; and Hajime kept his thoughts for himself, as much as it was killing him to do so, because he didn't want to break that small, tender string that had started to grow between them. They wanted each other so badly that it pained the core of their bones, yes; but when the time came, they tightened the hold in their own minds and thought… _I want it to be perfect so I won't say anything; that way, it's gonna last longer._

 _That way, we will have an small eternity for ourselves._

But as the stupid boys in love they were, they didn't realized that eternity had long ago fled away from their possibilities. And so they kissed, wishing for something that they would never be able to reach. 

 

It was amazing how time worked those days. At the beginning of this _living together although I don't even live in the human world_ adventure, Tooru had thought that he needed to control time, be aware of every second, count every hour, make every minute a mark in his invisible notebook to save Hajime's time. He was obsessed counting small things (Hajime's breathing, how long he took in the shower, how long Iwaizumi was able to hug Oikawa without shifting his position). But somewhere between the sixth day and the beginning of the second week, Tooru realized that he just… lost time. He didn't care anymore, he was too occupied enjoying Hajime's existence as to over think about fate and death and what awaited for them at the end of that tunnel and that it was getting scarily close. 

Who would think about tragedy and about death when life was so full of light and emotion. Tooru loved Hajime more than anything in this universe, and during those days, he learned how to show him exactly how much. He learned how to kiss Hajime and how to tease Hajime in a whole new level; he learned how a small caress could make Hajime's eyes turn into gold, and he learned how his own name said with a huskied voice could make his world crumble. It was amazing, feeling; and it was even more amazing to show how he felt. Hajime would get mad or would stay silent and listen to him; they even got into a small argument about some food (again), but it was… perfect. No time and no death and no argument could make Tooru think that this wasn't meant to be; no promise of a forgotten master could made him rethink about his actions, or force him to deny Hajime. He was in a bliss, in a cloud far away from heaven. 

The truth was, Tooru was blind. He had blinded himself away from his problems, like he usually did, and had locked them away in a cage he didn't remember he had. He was enjoying life, but the truth was, Tooru didn't have a life to enjoy. He had had one, long time ago, but death had claimed his soul and so now he was dead itself. He was in love, but he was doom to tragedy. Tooru was playing a game that wasn't meant to him, he was enjoying stolen time that would end up blowing in his face, but he kept averting his eyes and ignoring the truth. A small part of himself warned him, inside him. He was still a shinigami and his instincts and nature kept screaming inside his chest about who he was, about what he was, about what his existence meant. He couldn't escape himself, the same way Hajime, being human, couldn't escape death. But Tooru kept closing his eyes, covering his ears, shouting out and loud how much he loved Hajime, just like a child would do to keep the monsters at bay. _Fate doesn't exist for me,_ he seemed to scream with his actions, _if I keep looking at Hajime and nothing else, fate won't be able to catch me._

How he wanted that lie to be true. When he hugged Hajime, when he kissed Hajime, when he shared his food with Hajime, when he watched a movie with Hajime. What would Tooru give up to have those small moments lengthen forever only gods knew, because only gods had the power to reach so much. Tooru, who was smarter than most, who saw more than the average, who was proud to call himself a genius, fell into his own trap too soon and too hard. 

Because it didn't matter that Tooru kept lying to himself when Hajime was barely holding his own lies together. It didn't matter that Tooru had promised himself that he would fight death and he would win against heaven or that he would protect Hajime over anything. Because, while Tooru tortured himself with his pain and his fears and hid away everything that was eating him up inside and that he couldn't even face, Hajime noticed and Hajime wanted to know the truth. What Tooru failed to comprehend, while he painted reality with a pink brush, was that this was not a one-way relationship. This was not only Tooru's business and this was not Tooru being the only one in love. 

So when the storm hit, hard and devastating, it took Tooru so much by surprise that the only thing he could do was stay still and let it destroy him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE. here comes the angst and the tears and the sobs. I hope you crENJOYY it a lot!!! Thank you for reading and the comments and the kudos!!! U rock

Hajime had discovered some truths about himself living with Oikawa. He had always been a really discrete person. He wasn't the type to show his emotions in the open or even effusively. All the relationships he had had lacked of an open expression of his feelings (obviously because his heart was never in the game to start with) but who could be reserved when treating Oikawa. He was needy and a crybaby, he was spoiled and he had this gift to make a mess of the most trivial things. Hajime had always thought himself impatient and with standards too high, but during those weeks with Oikawa he found out that that trait of his personality was intimately related to the person in question. For his more utter surprise, he enjoyed Oikawa's stupid reactions, or his whipping or even the destruction he made around his house. There was a burn in his table that was going to stay there until the end of times, and Hajime had found himself caressing it absently during his breakfasts more than once (or twice), as if he was reassuring himself about Oikawa's existence. _He was here,_ that mark said to Hajime, _if he leaves, you will know that it was real and that he was here and that he was yours for a while._

Hajime discovered too that thinking about the future turned him into an anxious, irrational being. There were only two options in his future in which Hajime could focus at the moment, and those were if Oikawa would be in it or not. His childhood belief about Oikawa being there forever had started to vanish into a fear that was eating him up. These past days had been the longest time they had shared together, and as a result Hajime had started to see Oikawa more as a human than just a supernatural, not at all logical being. And so he had started to think, more than what he should; and then he had started to see, more than what he would have wanted. 

Tooru was a bad liar. He was good at hidden truths, but he couldn't lie bluntly about them. It was something Hajime had learned with the years, but in those days living together, he had started to notice other things. Tooru had this tic when he felt uneasy, in which he grabbed his legs, he made a ball of himself and started to swing forth and back. When there was something so big worrying him that he couldn't hid it anymore, he averted Hajime's eyes for hours. Or when he wanted Hajime to stop worrying about him, because _Tooru you've been here for almost three weeks and we haven't talked about why you decided to stay here in the first place,_ Oikawa would throw himself on top of Hajime and kiss him senseless instead of answering. By the end of the second week, Hajime comprehended that Oikawa not only didn't want to face his own problems, but was unable to see the ones that were coming in a rush towards them. 

The biggest truth Hajime understood about himself during this time, though, was that as much as he loved Tooru and as much as he would love him being Oikawa whatever he was, he couldn't keep going with this lie of a life they had built. He couldn't keep looking at Tooru, suffering in silence for something that Hajime didn't know, and pretend that he didn't see; that he didn't care. 

_I'm in love with you_ , he thought the third Tuesday, while he was getting dressed and was looking at Oikawa in the bed, hugging tightly Hajime's pillow, _I'm so in love with you that I can't even breath when I think about the day you are going to leave. How do you expect me to ignore the hurt I see in your eyes every time that you think that I'm not looking?_

_God, Tooru, what are we going to do with this mess if you don't share anything with me?_

_How am I going to survive without you, Tooru, when what sent you here calls you back home?_

_I'm in love with you, but it pains so much that I don't even know anymore._

 

He had the worst day at work that he could ever remember. He fought with Daichi and he fought with Hitoka and he ended up yelling at three patients that hadn't followed his recommendations since the last appointment. He knew that all his behavior had been shit and unfair for all the other parts involved, but he couldn't help himself from being on edge. 

There was a mantra, a stupid and annoying mantra, playing in his brain over and over again, and it was about how he had to confront Tooru about… everything. He had thought that his hidden truths could stay like that, that he didn't care either way, that he would love him none the less. Hajime's feelings would never change, that was true, but it remained true as well that keeping a relationship with Tooru full of lies was not what he wanted, what he had spent all his life wishing for. Hajime was a slave of honesty, and after all the years he had spent lying to himself, now that he finally could have a real relationship with Tooru and just letting it evolve into this… thing where none of them could say what they were truly feeling or thinking was killing Hajime slowly and painfully. 

It was ironic, he thought, that this relationship, the one he wanted to make work more than any other before, was rushing into tragedy faster than any of the other he had had. 

He arrived home at eight, as usual, but he had this tight, bitter feeling stick in his chest. He had spent his last hour at the clinic wishing the end of the day would never come. He didn't know if he had enough strength to face Tooru. He was scared as shit that he would lose everything he held dear once he demanded all those secrets to be unfold. 

Tooru was on the couch when Hajime entered. He was wearing his universe pajamas and Hajime's university sweater. He was watching some documentary about aliens in earth that had him completely absorbed. He looked gorgeous, the light of the TV lightening his face, his eyes wide open as if he tried to take in all the information. He didn't turn around to face Hajime when he entered, and so Iwaizumi could freely enjoy the view of his profile and his expression and all his existence without needing to hide anything from his face. Because he knew, —he knew, because his heart hurt so much it was barely supportable— that all his feelings were well written in his expression like an open book. Oh, gods, he adored that fucking idiot and how it pained to know that Tooru still couldn't trust him enough, that Hajime was not strong enough to ask openly everything he wanted. 

"I'm home," he said after a while, unable to stand any longer the growing pain that had started to take away his breath. 

Tooru flinched a bit and faced Hajime, a big, bright smile spreading out in his face. It was a smile that said: at least the sun has come after months of rain, and Hajime had to force himself to keep his gaze in Tooru's eyes, although he felt tears filling them in a second. 

Oikawa didn't notice, though. He stood up and jumped in top of Hajime, forcing the human to hold all his weight in a second of surprise. He let out a huff when Oikawa's legs wrapped around his waist and his arms held him tight around the neck. Gods, this felt so good that Hajime didn't know how to held himself together any longer. 

"Welcome home, Iwa-chan!"

Tooru smiled down at him, those soft lips full of promises that made Hajime crave for more. Some of his feelings must had been off of Hajime's grip because Tooru bent his head a bit, almost as if he was studying him. They watched each other for a moment and then Tooru kissed him without warning, making Hajime breath out in a muffled noise that could be from surprise or pleasure. His hands tightened around Tooru, an unconscious instinct to held him closer, and he deepened the kiss, forcing Tooru to open his mouth with the tender caress of his tongue. He was kind of addicted to Tooru's lips, more than what he was addicted to coffee. It was scary as shit, that thought, and so Hajime let it go away and enjoyed the way their tongues brushed agains each other, and the soft noises Tooru made against his mouth, and the way his hands let go of his neck and went to his hair, holding him closer, closer, so close that the only thing Hajime could breath was Tooru and the only thing Hajime could see was Tooru and the only thing he wanted to keep feeling was Tooru, all around him, his moans in his ears, his taste in his tongue. Tooru shifted in his arms, grinding all their bodies together, making Hajime growl deep in his throat and making him lose his balance. Trying to avoid the ground but never leaving Tooru's lips, Hajime took two steps until Oikawa's back was against the wall and Hajime was against Oikawa's body and the friction was even better now that Tooru had another surface to support him. 

Hajime's hands traveled from Tooru's back to his tights and grabbed them hard enough to make Tooru moan again. He enjoyed the way Tooru's muscles moved under his hands, the way he tried to get closer to Hajime using the wall but sighing with frustration when he couldn't reach what his body was looking for. Hajime, enjoying the way Tooru tried to find a pleasure he didn't really know, softened his kiss a bit, enough for Tooru to notice the change, and moved his legs around his hips enough to press himself harder against Tooru once, twice; Oikawa was barely holding himself together, his breaths coming in and out in a rush, barely able to inhale with every stroke of Hajime's tongue against his, of his lower body caressing him with a slow, maddening pace. Oikawa's hands held Hajime's head with more strength and let go his lips in an attempt to regulate his breathing. 

Iwaizumi almost moaned when he saw the straight line of Tooru's neck there, just in front of him, his pulse so evident and strong. He reached forward, unable to stop himself, and let a path of wet kisses in that soft, perfect skin. Tooru's grip tightened so much in his hair that it was almost painful, and when Hajime rubbed himself with strength enough against Tooru's body, Oikawa almost got out of his skin. 

"Iwa-chan…" Tooru managed to say, with a groan. Hajime licked his neck until he found his pulse under his tongue, and then sucked. Hard. Tooru moaned so loud that Hajime shivered, and then he did it again, making Tooru starting to move in his arms, trying to deepen the way their bodies touched, the way Hajime kept grinding himself against him over and over and over again. 

"Iwa-chan, I want…" but Tooru couldn't end that plea, since he didn't really know what he wanted, what he yearned. But Hajime knew, although a part of his brain was screaming at him about what he had been thinking of doing all day long, about how a bad idea this was, at how loving Tooru until the end would kill them when he finally spoke his mind. 

But then Tooru forced him into another kiss and Hajime's brain just shut down, unable to bear with all the sensations that were filling him up having Tooru against him, slowly moving against him, kissing him, trying to take his clothes off, trying to have all of him. Hajime was bad with thinking when Oikawa was in the equation and so he just followed his instincts. He said to himself, _I will do this for him and then we will talk,_ but he couldn't lie to himself when he reached through Oikawa's pant's edge and touched him for the first time. He couldn't deny how much he was enjoying this when Tooru's new moan filled the room and probably the whole building, nor when he started to stroke him, first slow, letting Tooru get used to the feeling, and then a bit faster; and after a moment, Hajime was kissing him again, syncing the movement of his hand with the way his tongue caressed Tooru's mouth. Oikawa couldn't stop making low, guttural sounds against Hajime, and he swallowed them all, trying to fill himself with Tooru, trying to have a bit more of him, trying to satisfy himself with just this. 

"Iwa-chan, I just…" Tooru's legs tightened around Hajime, bringing his hips closer to Hajime's hand. Iwaizumi smiled against his neck and kissed him open mouthed, leaving a trace of red marks around his pulse. He stroked him faster and tighter, making Oikawa embrace him harder. "Iwa-chan, I want," Hajime sucked his neck hard, and Tooru moaned loud," you… This is just so one sided…" he managed to blurt out between breath and breath. 

Hajime stopped the movement of his hand, so surprised by Tooru's words the only thing he could do was watch him. "For gods' sake, don't stop." Tooru whimpered and moved his hips again. "Just… let me…" his hands traveled until the front of Hajime's pants and touched him lightly over the fabric. Hajime hold his breath with the soft touch and had to bit his lips before he growled too loud. "Can we do it… together? Please?"

How could he say no to those big, begging eyes?

Hajime nodded —because he wasn't sure he could make any logical noise right now— and kissed him again. He started to move his hand once more while Tooru tried to open with some difficulties his belt. "Fuck, I just can't…" Hajime was a bit out of his mind at this point —he was having Tooru after all this time, and this was a fucking bad idea, and he knew it well enough, but he wanted it so much and he didn't want to think about how wrong it was but he just couldn't stop if his body was not in Tooru's…— and so he let go of Oikawa, anchoring him against the wall with his hips only —the friction was such that they both moaned— and he undid his belt and the button of his pants the faster he could before reaching for Tooru again and kissing him senseless. Tooru's hands were needy but shy when he reached through Hajime's pants and pass his underwear. Hajime was working his way inside Tooru's pajamas again, trying to take them down enough to have a better reach. He caressed the soft skin of his tights, his buttocks, his low back. "Wait, take this off. Now." he ordered to Tooru when the sweater and the shirt just got too much in the way. Tooru blinked at him but obeyed within a second. He took his hand out of Hajime's underwear before he arched his back as to undress himself, making Hajime groan loud enough to make the walls tremble when Tooru's hardness rubbed against his. Before the sweater and the shirt together were on the floor, Hajime's mouth had found his way into Tooru's slim chest. His hands were in his ribs now, steadying him while he devoured the skin above his collar bone, the furious beat against his chest, his full existence. 

Tooru was panting, his eyes closed, his hands in Hajime's shoulders, his nails deep enough to leave a mark. Tooru didn't know what he was supposed to do anymore, he was so overwhelmed by all the sensations his body was feeling right now that he was pretty sure his brain had just burned itself down. When Hajime's mouth started to kiss his nipple Tooru found himself moaning again, although all the breath was out of his reach. And when Hajime started to move his hips against him again, grinding against his cock in slow movements, Tooru almost got out of his skin. He whimpered, a bit too loud, and Hajime bit his nipple before his hand reached him and started to stroke fast enough to make Tooru cry instead of breathing. 

God, it felt so good… he was in flames, although he was pretty sure his body temperature was just the same. His skin was so sensitive and his heart was bursting with the knowledge that this was Hajime and that they were sharing this moment and that Tooru was so in love that he just wanted… everything. 

"Haji—Hajime…" he whimpered, moving his hips against his human's hands as if he couldn't do anything else. It was too much but it was not enough. Tooru wanted to feel him too, but he didn't know how to move his hands away from the hold in Hajime's shoulders, not when he couldn't send the right order to his brain, that had turned into a mess. "Hajime, let me…"

"What do you want, Tooru?" Hajime bit his other nipple hard enough to make Tooru jump in his touch, never stopping the movement of his hand. "What do you want?" his voice was so demanding… it did something weird to Tooru's low belly, an unknown heat building up there, almost filling him up, making him moan just because of that promise in Hajime's voice. Tooru could only shook his head, as if that would explain what he was longing for.

He sensed Iwaizumi's smile against his neck, as if Tooru's incapability to express himself was what he wanted more than anything. "Is this what you want?" Tooru gasped and opened his eyes in reflex when he felt Hajime's cock against his, his hand around them both. Tooru just nodded and bit his lower lip, trying to shut himself up, trying to hold himself together. Hajime's stroke was hard and tight and perfect, and Tooru just moaned again and again and again, opening his mouth after some seconds since the air seemed an impossibility for him now, the pleasure building a dim in his lungs. Hajime never stopped his hand, and when Tooru's grip held him tighter around the neck, one of his hands lost in his hair, he took advantage of that opened mouth and kissed Tooru, letting his tongue inside his mouth like a welcomed guest. Their mouths barely could stick together, though; Tooru's need to breath was too strong to hold his lips against Hajime's for too long. "God, Tooru, you feel so…" Tooru whimpered against him, his hips bucking incessantly against Hajime and inside his hand and then Hajime moved his mouth and he was sucking again his nipples and then that big, warm dim inside Tooru just broke. He whimpered against Hajime's shoulder, shivering, white stars shining in his eyes while the pleasure took over him. He was panting, Hajime's hand still around him, Hajime still against him hard enough to make Tooru's belly burn with the feeling, and after a few more strokes of Hajime's hand he groaned and fell against Oikawa. 

It took some moments to recover, Tooru's legs numb for the position, Hajime's shivering and after some seconds they both fell into the ground, Oikawa in Hajime's lap, all the mess they've made in Hajime's hand and Tooru's naked chest. They were panting in sync, Tooru breathing in and out Hajime's scent and the soft smell of sweat. Oh gods, how he wanted to tell him everything just then; how much he loved him, what was going to happen to him in a near future, what Tooru would have to do to him, even if they had shared this, even if… no, it was not even, it was because Tooru loved him beyond death and beyond life. 

Tooru tightened his hold around Hajime's shoulders, a broken hug that showed how wounded was Tooru about his reality, about the fact that no matter how much this had mattered to him, he would have to break it none the less. 

Hajime kissed him softly in the side of his neck and caressed his naked back with a tender brush of his fingers. "Are you ok?" Tooru laughed a bit at the question. 

"Are you serious?" Hajime frowned his brow at the mocking in Tooru's voice. "Hajime, I'm pretty sure that you can tell how good I am at the moment." Hajime blushed, as adorable as that was, and Tooru kissed him in the tip of his nose, unable to stop himself, making Hajime's blush even stronger. 

"That is not what I meant and you know it."

"I know, I know. I'm good, Hajime. How are you?" he teased, laugher still caressing his throat with the way Hajime averted his eyes at the question. 

"I'm ok." there was a hint in his answer that triggered all the alarms in Tooru's brain. "Come on, let's get you clean. You will catch a cold if we stay here much longer."

Tooru couldn't bring himself to tell him that he was dead already, that there was no cold out in the human world that could kill him. He just let Hajime take him to the shower. He cleaned Tooru with devotion and care enough to make the god's heart shiver, but that was the only sign of Hajime's real feelings. He had put on a mask of plain indifference, that one he wore when he was rather worried or he was trying to figure out how to do something he didn't wanted to do.

Tooru knew it the second they got into the shower, but like the coward he was, he didn't commented on it, hoping it would go away, just as the reminds of the moment they just had shared went away with the hot water of the bath. 

 

"And so, at the end of the movie he just…" Oikawa was moving his hands, his face lightened up with excitement, his hair still wet from the shower framing his face and bouncing with every movement of his hands. Hajime was watching him in silence, enjoying him, absorbing him. He wanted to caress that hair out of the way of his eyes and make that smile a permanent trait in his expression. He wanted him to be like this, so excited he couldn't even control himself, a hint of the heated moment they had shared visible in his neck and his swelled lips. 

Hajime hadn't eaten much of the dinner he had made after the shower. The nerves were filling his stomach enough for him to avoid any kind of food for some time now. He almost had him, there against his wall. He had thought about it… about just going all the way, about taking Tooru in his living room and to hell with the consequences. Gods, how much he wanted him, but at the same time he knew how betrayed Tooru was going to feel once Iwaizumi said everything he had to say, and so he had just contained himself. 

Hajime knew how hypocrite he was being; he knew that Tooru was going to feel like shit either way now, because Hajime had wanted him and had given himself to him and Tooru had answered the same way. He knew he should had stopped before anything happened at all, but…

"Are you listening to me, Iwa-chan?"

"I want to go on a date," he said on impulse, instead of answering. Oikawa's eyes opened in surprise, his expression shadowing in a confused grimace. 

"What?"

"I want to go on a date," Hajime's voice sounded plain and sharp, he knew it; but the emotion choking his heart gave him no other choice as to put a strong face and cope with it. 

"With…" Tooru tried to clear his throat, although his chest felt so tight he was surprised he could speak at all. "With who?"

Hajime arched his brow and shook his head. "With you, idiot. With who would I want to go on a date?"

Tooru was having a hard time to understand Hajime's words. "Where is this coming from? I mean, we have never…"

"That's where this is coming from," Hajime growled with frustration, "we have never done anything like that. And I want to."

"But Iwa-chan, it had worked perfectly well until now…" Tooru's voice was trembling and he was starting to feel the panic rose inside him. He was sure that his eyes were showing bright and clear how much this conversation was affecting him but Hajime didn't step back, and the panic became a weird mix of fear and anxiety. 

"Has it?" his voice was low and rough. "It was not that it worked, it was us ignoring the fact that it didn't. I don't want to hide my relationship with you, Tooru," Oikawa's heart lost a beat at the sound of relationship, and for a moment the panic and the fear were forgotten. "I can't stand more lies."

Hajime's confession put Tooru in a weird state. He couldn't feel his hands although he could see how much they were trembling. There was an annoying, high pitched sound in his ears that was giving his brain a hard time to work properly. Where were the coherent thoughts, the easy answers, the teasing? Where was his voice?, Tooru thought without air in his lungs.

"Tooru, I want a date," he said again and Tooru hated that damn word, all the implications, the fact that a date was the simplest, more impossible thing they could never have. 

"You want a date with me?" Oikawa said, finally finding his voice again. "Fine, let's try that. How do you think you will feel standing in a restaurant, laughing at some stupid comment I made, and looking like a fucking crazy person?" Hajime flinched in his seat and watched Tooru's rage with quiet surprise. "What will you feel when someone approaches you and asks you if you are ok, since you are alone and it looks like you are talking to someone? How do you thing that will work, Iwa-chan?"

"I won't be alone," Hajime answered, stubbornly. "I will be with you."

"That's the exact same thing!"

Tooru was out of breath and Hajime was out of words. It was the first time that Oikawa openly talked about anything related to his existence and Hajime couldn't held his surprise. He didn't know how to answer, because what could he answer to that? The only thing Hajime wanted to do was to scream at Tooru and his bag full of secrets, for being something out of the ordinary, for making him fall in love with someone with whom he would never be able to have a normal relationship with. But he could say nothing, just stare at him, his raged expression, his still damp hair falling again in front of his eyes. 

"We will be there," Tooru said, between breaths that came in too fast. "Eating and joking. You will be handsome as hell and people will notice you, because how could they not. And then when you start to look at me or listening to me or answer me… How do you expect it to work, Hajime? You will probably end up in the psychiatric floor of some hospital while that desired date of yours turns into the worst memory of our history."

"Tooru…"

"No." Tooru was mad and hurt and was unable to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth. He stood up, unable to face Hajime while his heart was crashing into the ground and reality was sinking its claws in his insides. "Just… don't. Don't you see?" he whispered, a bit broken. "Don't you see what this is?"

It was an unfair question, but Tooru couldn't care less. How could Iwaizumi see anything when Tooru had kept him in the dark for years. But he asked anyway, because he had to know, because it was so heavy in Tooru's chest that _how could he not know._

"Me being in love with you and you just throwing a tantrum at it?" Hajime's answer was as raged as Tooru's had been a moment ago, and the god found himself staring back at Hajime, who stood now as well, watching him with anger and love in his beautiful eyes. It was the first time he said it and it pained so fucking much that he had to chose this precise moment to say he loved him. "What the fuck are your so afraid of, Tooru?"

Ah, Tooru would had loved to answer. He was mad and he was hurt but the strongest emotion in his chest was his love for this stupid, stubborn and beautiful human that he couldn't keep even if he destroyed heavens. 

"I'm a shinigami," he bursted out without even realizing it. He was facing Hajime, his heart lost somewhere on the floor, his brain destroyed by his words and by the pain, and he just… said it, because they had built their relationship to this moment, but most important, because this was what Hajime needed from him, and Tooru couldn't keep it away from him any longer. "I am a God of Death, and I am your fated death." 

The silence was so thick Tooru almost choked in it. He couldn't avert Hajime's gaze and so he didn't. He saw all kind of emotions go through that beautiful face of his. Surprise, shock, hurt, acceptance, rage… There was love there somewhere too, but Tooru couldn't held in it when the truth was now in the open and was making him lose the grip he had in faith. 

"Hajime…" his voice sounded wrong, too low, too dead.

"I always knew," Hajime's eyes left Oikawa and the god's heart, that was already dead at his feet, turned into ashes, impossible to be restored anymore. "I always knew you were gonna be the death of me."

Damn Hajime. Damn him and his beautiful smile, that sad curve of his lips, those eyes full of love even when Oikawa just said he was going to kill him. He didn't have the right to, but Tooru got mad at Hajime when the human accepted it just like that. 

"Are you not listening to what I'm telling you, Hajime? I'm going to kill you!"

"I get it out and loud," he answered, all calmness and love, that damn love that was weighting Tooru so much that he couldn't breath any longer. "And I'm telling you that it doesn't matter." Tooru was wrong, his heart wasn't dead yet, because after those words he felt the direct punch that made it shiver. "I'm in love with you, Tooru. I've been in love with you for years. It doesn't make a difference anymore what you are or what you are going to do to me. I always knew I couldn't change my heart anymore. I'm in too deep." Hajime sighed profusely and Tooru grinded his teeth in a futile attempt to stop the tears that were filling his eyes from falling. "I just wanted to know. I just needed the truth to make this work…"

"Why don't you listen to me!" Tooru felt the tears leave warm paths in his checks, but he was too busy yelling at Hajime to care one bit. "You are going to die, Hajime! I will have to kill you and I have to do it in less than three months! What am I saying?" Tooru let out a weird, hysterical laugh. "I will have to kill you in less than two months, because I've been too busy playing the married couple with you for almost one now!"

That did it. Almost. All color left Hajime's face in the blink of an eye, his breath stopped in his chest for a second too long. He looked back at Tooru with his big, dark eyes full of fear and Tooru couldn't find the strength to not look back at him with all his truth in there: the death he was, the evil he represented. 

"I've been in training for almost a century," he explained with a rushed voice, unable to stop himself now that the door was open. "And I was accepted as a chosen shinigami some weeks ago. And you are… you are my punishment. I got too attached to you and so the master chose me and told me I had to kill you in order to become a true shinigami. I have to take you so I can become a God of Death. Your fate was signed the day I met you and decided that I wanted a bit more of you for myself. I did this to you years ago, Hajime, don't you see? You shouldn't be in love with me."

"That's why you came?" Hajime's voice was harsh and Tooru could only nod, his tears running silently against his checks. "You wanted to have a bit more of me before you killed me?" he sounded so wounded Tooru almost choked in his hurry to take him out of his mistake. 

"No, no, no. That is not it. No, Hajime, listen," Tooru was desperate, his eyes open with panic, his voice shaking with the tears shed. "I came here… I wasn't planning to see you but… when we were there," he pointed at the couch, "and you were being so nice to me I just… I couldn't think, ok? I couldn't bring myself to decide to do it; to kill you. Oh god, Hajime, I don't want to kill you, don't you understand? But I have to. If I don't, then your soul will be doom and I will be doom and my brothers as well. I just… didn't know what to do anymore."

Hajime didn't answer but his eyes were answer enough. Tooru sobbed and tried to reach Hajime, but the human just got out of his reach in instinct. "Hajime…"

"I just…" Hajime averted his gaze and put his hands in his face, trying to clear his thoughts, trying to hold into something before he collapsed. "I just need a moment, Tooru… This is too much to process. I need a moment."

With a weep, Tooru took two steps back. Where was his heart?, he was looking around the room, trying to find the missing piece in his chest, but nothing was on sight. "Tooru, wait, just let me…" Hajime tried to reach him and then Tooru understood. _Ah, that's the missing piece._

But it was too much to handle and the tears wouldn't stop coming out and the pain, oh gods, what was that pain drowning him? Tooru couldn't quite explain how much was going wrong inside him, so he took another step back, his eyes darkened with panic when he looked at Hajime. 

"Tooru, no, please, just let me…"

"I can't do this. I can't. Oh, gods, Hajime. I just… I can't. I'm sorry."

He was gone the next second, leaving Hajime there, shock through his veins, his heart in his throat, his love for that stupid god of death vivid and stronger than ever bright in his chest. He was attached to Tooru with a red string and the rush Hajime felt to the knowledge was a mix of pain and euphoria. He wanted to scream to the world: _we are meant to be!_ But he was a mess and so he just sat again at the table and watched absently how the sun set and rose, unable to order his thoughts, unable to stop himself from loving Tooru even when he was going to die because of it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and reading!! You are awesome. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the update :D (and I hope you enjoy crying too ~so sorry)

Heaven's air felt weird. It was too clean, too cold, too familiar. 

_I don't want to be here_ , Tooru thought, their temple beautifully sat atop the clouded hill. _I don't want this, I don't want heaven, I don't want anything._ Tooru was a mess. His checks were sticky with dried tears, he was still wearing Hajime's clothes and he felt like shit in general. He was standing at the end of Heaven's cloud, watching with rage that existence he had loved so much just some weeks ago, and that he now despised with all his being. 

He had missed his brothers, though. He could at least accept that truth when he saw Kenma rushing with his black uniform through the valleys of the cloud to where Tooru stood. He had missed them so much… and yet he couldn't share his pain with them, could he? He had broken his promise of not visiting Hajime and he had ignored them for weeks now. Did they know about the fated deaths' truth? Had Suga talked to them this past weeks about how they would have to kill each one of their beloved humans?

"Tooru," Kenma was out of breath, his two-colored hair frizzied for the running.

"I'm home," Tooru's voice was raspy and although he tried to smile at his brother, the only thing he managed to force out was a grimace that worried Kenma more than what it reassured him. 

"Tooru, what have you done?" the whisper was filled with knowledge and Tooru flinched a bit, coming back to his senses long enough to realize the look in Kenma's eyes. 

"No—nothing," Tooru averted Kenma's gaze, but he supposed that his clothes and his tears and the marks in his body spoke loud enough. "Kenma, I just need… I need rest."

"Tooru," his name was said with too much pity and Tooru couldn't stand it anymore, "why would you do this to yourself?"

"Because I couldn't help it, ok?! I couldn't stay away! I couldn't ignore my feelings just like that! I'm not you, Kenma! I just can't shut myself down and ignore my heart!"

He was so unfair, Tooru thought; he was paying weeks of frustration with Kenma, and he knew it; he was venting his rage and his despair of that last argument in his brother, and as unfair as that was, Kenma didn't reply. How could he. Kenma was not one to express his feelings openly, but the way he looked at Tooru was answer enough. He had hurt him —Tooru knew that a part of him was looking exactly for that— and so Kenma shrank his shoulders and averted Tooru's gaze.

"Gods, Kenma, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Tooru had to press his fingers against his eyes to stop the tears from coming again. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ "I'm just a mess right now and it has nothing to do with you. I'm sorry."

"I know, Tooru," he said, his voice low as were his eyes.

"What do you know?"

"That you are a mess," he watched Kenma hug himself and Tooru felt his selfishness punch him in the guts, hard. He had been so worried about his own pain he had forgotten they were going through the exact same thing. "I know what you've done, and I know why you have done it. I understand it, Tooru. I was just— worried."

"I know. I know," Tooru's chest was burning with guilt. "I know, Kenma, I'm sorry. I should have been here, I should have…"

"No. You did what you felt right, I guess that's enough."

But, was it? Tooru didn't know anymore. His feelings were all over the place, he couldn't point out where his heart was at the moment and his brain was collapsing with all this things he couldn't understand. What was right and what was wrong? Tooru didn't know. He didn't know if visiting Hajime had been the right thing, although he had hurt them both, although it had meant leaving these persons he cared so much behind. He didn't know if staying here, hidden in the clouds, was smarter, was safer. 

"Have you… have you reached to the world below?" Tooru's voice was shaking. 

"No."

"You haven't tried to do what the master ordered us?"

"No."

Tooru felt uneasy at his answers and at the way Kenma couldn't confront his gaze —and not only his gaze, that was normal enough, but Tooru's body in general. Kenma was literally looking at everything possible except him. 

"Kenma, what is it?"

"Koushi hasn't come back since you two left."

Something went weirdly still inside Tooru's chest. His whole body just quieted down, as if Kenma's words had pushed the switch of his movements. 

"What."

"I don't know where he is and I couldn't find him. I thought at first that you two were together, but once I found you and he was nowhere near…" Kenma's grip tightened around himself. 

"Did you talk with the master?" Tooru started to feel a dead cold growing inside him.

"No. I would never betray one of you."

Kenma quieted down but Tooru felt there was so much more his brother was not telling him. "What…"

"We should get back to the dorm," Kenma was fast enough to start walking before Tooru could ask him anything else. And anyways, Tooru was dead tired and needed another shower to take off the sad feeling of his skin and… to be honest with himself, he couldn't bare to face more pain, even if this time came from another person and not from inside. 

 

"I need to get the afternoon free." 

Daichi didn't look at him, still mad from yesterday's argument. Hajime couldn't blame him. In fact, Hajime had found himself unable to do anything at all since he stood up that morning in an empty apartment and alone. He had been going through the day like a zombie and he hardly remembered anything about the hours that had past already. He wasn't even sure he had had some coffee today or not. 

"Do as you please."

"Thank you," he managed to say, although he wasn't sure if the order had left his brain to reach his mouth. Was he sleeping? It would be so good if this was only a dream. He stood there, beside Daichi for a long time; so much that Daichi finally looked up at him with an angry expression that vanished at the sight that Hajime presented.

He looked like shit. It was not exactly something physical; he was more pale than usual, yes, and his eyes were red and had dark bags underneath. But what scared Daichi more than anything else were his eyes. They were filled with sadness, that kind of feeling that could literally take away the light out of someones eye's. 

"What the—Iwaizumi, are you ok?"

It took three seconds more than usual for Hajime to focus on Daichi. "What?"

"Are you ok?" Daichi repeated, slowly this time, almost as if he was talking to someone who just came out from an accident. 

"Yes. No. No, I don't think I'm ok?" it came out as a question, but the answer was clear enough. 

Daichi stood up in a rush, almost throwing his chair to the ground. Iwaizumi watched him with a frown but said nothing. 

"Ok, go wait for me in the staff room."

"What?"

"Just go, for god sake."

Hajime moved almost like a robot. "Hitoka-san, can you please clear Iwaizumi's schedule for today?" Daichi said through the phone to the girl, who was in the reception desk in the other side of the clinic. "And the three first hours of mine as well, please. Thank you." 

Daichi rushed to the staff room after he hung up. He found Iwaizumi sat straight in one of the chairs looking absently outside the window. "What the fuck had happened to you? Have you slept something?"

"Mmmh, I don't think so. I saw the sun rose. It was beautiful."

"I bet it was," Daichi sat across him and put his arms atop the table, "Hajime, are you on drugs?"

Hajime seemed to woke up a bit to the comment, since he let out a huffed laugh. "That would be so much easier."

"Then, what is it?" Hajime shivered and hugged himself. He didn't want to be awake, he didn't want to notice; because if he thought and if he let it out clear in his head, he would feel and he was not prepared to feel anything. 

"It's complicated."

"Life is complicated," said Daichi, having none of his it's complicated so let's not talk about it shit. 

Hajime buried his face into his hands and inhaled sharply. "Do you remember that we talk about… About me seeing someone."

"Yes."

"Let's just say it went to shit."

They stayed in silence for a moment before Daichi cleared his throat. "It's not the first time that one of your relationships turn into shit, but it's the first time that I've ever seen you like this because of it."

"That's because I've always been in love with Oikawa and none of the others were him."

Daichi kept the silence this time. He didn't know who Oikawa was, but it had to be someone important if he had been there for so long. "I don't know… him."

"I told you it was complicated."

"I don't see anything complicated here."

"Because you only know the basics of it." 

"Then just talk to me about the complicated parts," Daichi had his arms crossed against his chest now, his face full of hard angles. 

Hajime smiled sadly at him. "That face is not going to intimidate me."

"I can at least try," Daichi sighed and let out his arms. "I can't help you if you don't share, Iwaizumi."

"You can't help me either way."

"How much did you messed up this time?" it was a fair question; Hajime was always the one messing up his relationships, but that didn't meant that it hurt less to hear it. 

"Complicated, again," Daichi growled. "He had a secret, and I always knew he had a secret; but it didn't matter before. We were not… we were just friends then, so I thought that it was ok, that I didn't need to know. But then… we were not only friends anymore and it weighted; because I knew there was something he was not telling me, and he knew that I knew; and I just…"

"You confronted him?" Hajime smiled, sad and broken.

"I did. And he was so hurt I just…" Hajime hid his face in his hands and tried to steady his breathing. "Fuck, I just scared him away. And it's so messed up, Daichi; you don't know half of it. I shouldn't be feeling like this, but I just…I miss him so much I don't even know where is right and where is left; he left yesterday and I have lost myself already."

"I didn't know you could love someone that much," Daichi's voice was filled with surprise. He was watching Hajime as if he was seeing him for the first time, and maybe he was. One of the most important parts in Hajime's life was Oikawa and he was finally sharing him with Daichi. 

"It amazes me too."

They let the words fell; what else was there to say anyway? Hajime had to keep Tooru's secret and how could Daichi help him, when there was no help to give? Hajime wished he had some way to contact Tooru more than phone; a door to knock at, a workplace to wait in. But the only thing he had was a number and the sky above, that he would never be able to reach. 

"I don't need to say this, but I will say it just in case," Daichi's face was serious, his dark eyes filled with worry and determination, "if you need anything, you know you can contact me 24/7. We are friends before partners, ok?"

Ah, Iwaizumi understood the worry. "I won't try to kill myself, Daichi," his partner flinched, but didn't avert his gaze. "I know that you are worried, but I won't do it, ok?"

"I couldn't go through that again…"

"I would never make you go through that, not once, not twice. And neither would Bokuto," he said it but he then realized. He was going to die, in less than two months, and Daichi would be left there; with Bokuto, whom he would have to take care of; with Kuroo and his dying wish traveling the world. 

It weighted so much, that knowledge; he wanted to tell Daichi; he wanted to share it with him so he could prepare himself, but how could he? They almost lost Bokuto a year ago, how could he say now so bluntly that he was going to lose a friend? Him?

"I know. I just— if you need to talk, I'm here. I don't know—I don't know that you had someone you cared so much, Iwaizumi. It just surprises me, but I hope you will find the way to make amends; you will make it work."

Hajime wasn't sure about it. What was there to amend? A relationship doomed to die? Would Hajime do that to Oikawa? He knew that he would give his next months to that stubborn and spoiled god without a thought but… was it fair to make Oikawa love him all those days, just to be forced to kill him at the end? Hajime didn't want to die but he was human and he always knew that it had to happen sooner or later. It was a fact well known of life. But being responsible for the death of the one you love…

"I don't know if it's worth saving," he confessed in a whisper, because he needed to tell someone, but mostly because he needed to hear the words out loud. "I don't know if it's fair for him to have this."

Daichi kept his thoughts for himself, maybe understanding that Hajime was not talking to him, maybe because him not knowing all the facts prevented him from making a wrong statement. Either way, Hajime tried to weight out his heart and failed miserly and Daichi kept him company, because he was his friend and because, even if Iwaizumi was lost in his confusion, he needed the support of another breathing being. 

 

Tooru couldn't take his eyes off the fabric that was covering his body. It felt heavy and it was too dark; he felt like the death he was, and not like the living—kind—of—dead he had been the last few weeks. The dorm was too silent, the clothes were too heavy and the air… why was the air so clean? Why was the only thing that could Tooru smell ozone and trees and water? This was not what he wanted, but once again, life and death hadn't given Tooru what he had wanted at all. Either time. 

"Oikawa-san, do you wanna join us for dinner?" Akaashi was watching him from the door of his room, his dark clothes a perfect match for his dark hair and his intense gaze. Tooru watched him above his shoulder and just shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't hungry; he wasn't thirsty. He wanted to see his brothers, yes, but none of them were Iwaizumi and so a disappointed feeling grew in his chest. 

Yamaguchi and Tobio-chan were already sat at the table, Kenma no where to be seen. "Kenma-san is bringing the food," Akaashi explained. 

No one mentioned Suga and neither did Tooru. 

He sat in silence, a weird weight in his shoulders making him swallow a bitter taste out of his tongue. Suga hadn't been here for weeks now, which meant that none of them had a hint of the truth. It was Tooru's fault, for having that stupid idea about exchanging their humans, and maybe this was the way life had to slap him back. 

Kenma brought the food and so all of them started to eat in a tense silence. Tooru didn't dare to confront anyone's gaze. He was ashamed, and he was in pain, and he was so mad at himself for being here that he was sure it was a clear sight in his eyes. They were almost at the end of the dinner —and Tooru's torture— when Yamaguchi gathered enough courage to speak out his mind. 

"We made a promise," he said in a low voice, burning Tooru with his wounded eyes. "We said that we wouldn't visit them."

"Why do you care," Tooru was a bit filled up with all the hurt and all the frustration and all in general as to take care of his voice and his rage. "You said we shouldn't visit them because it would be more difficult to face their deaths. Why do you care if I make it difficult for me?"

"What if you decide now that you don't want him to die?! We will all be doomed. They will be doomed."

Tooru took his eyes away from Yamaguchi and inhaled deeply. They didn't know. Suga was not here and Tooru hadn't been here for weeks. They didn't know and it was his job to say it to them. 

"Have you gone to the world below?" he asked trying to control his voice.

"What? No!" Yamaguchi blushed a bit, but Tooru guessed it was because he was mad at him and not something else. 

"So you haven't tried to kill your designated human?"

He had the common sense to look ashamed at that and he dropped his gaze. "Has some of you tried at least to carry out what we are supposed to do?"

Kenma was playing with his food —he had eaten less than Tooru— while Akaashi was silently looking outside of the window. Kageyama just huffed under his breath, but didn't answer. "So, you have the nerve to confront me, but you have literally spent a month doing nothing, just whimpering here in heaven." Tooru smirked and it would had been almost funny if the situation wasn't going to get as sad as it was. 

"No one was whimpering," Kageyama had the need to point out and gods, it had to be him. 

"Don't give me that crap, Tobio-chan. I know you."

"What, you think you are the only one who has someone they care about, so you are the only one with the right to complain about it?" Kageyama was mad and Tooru knew why and comprehended it well enough. But as much as he could relate to Kageyama, he couldn't make it matter. "Don't think yourself too much just because you are reckless."

" _I_ am reckless?" Tooru grinned and stood up, making Kenma shift in his sit uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "At least I am trying to do something. At least I'm trying to enjoy the last of my human instead of crying over it."

"I told you already, no one has been crying."

"Oh, don't tell me. You have been visiting your human non stop these past few weeks, am I right, Tobio-chan? Juts to make the best out of it, now that it's getting to an end." Tooru had meant it as a joke, —a mean, hurtful joke— but when Kageyama blushed deeply and averted his gaze, Tooru couldn't help but gasp in surprise. "For gods sake, Tobio; why do you never do what you are supposed to do?"

"What?" Yamaguchi watched Kageyama with betrayal in his eyes. "You promised!"

"You forced us to promise, and who cares anyway?" Kageyama's eyes were filled with determination when he spoke. "I'm gonna do what I have to do, but that doesn't mean that I'm gonna reject the last moments I have with him. I just followed you because you were scared, Yamaguchi; you needed the support, not me."

Yamaguchi dropped his eyes and Tooru saw him breathing harshly, almost as if he was trying to contain his tears. Tooru caressed his temples in a futile attempt to clear his thoughts. "Is there someone apart from Freckles-chan that hasn't been going to the world below to visit their human in a clandestine, really not healthy way?" when no one faced him —Akaashi kept his gaze on the window, Kenma's never left his game— Tooru sighed loudly. "What a bunch of idiots we are."

Tooru let himself fell into the chair again, so physically tired after this stupid conversation that he couldn't even hold himself. "What are we doing," he wasn't looking for an answer, but he got one anyway. 

"A mess, that's what you are doing."

They all stilled in their chairs, none of them able to process the new voice that had filled the room. Tooru's gaze was fixed in the celling and he kept telling himself _if you don't look, it won't be real._ But, ah, he was too bad following even his own orders, and so his eyes moved almost as if they had life of their own and ended up on the figure in shade at the door of the room. A weird, choked sound came out of Tooru, a fear real and painful crawling inside him. 

He hadn't given a thought to the master; not those past weeks, not even now that he was back in Heaven. He knew that him escaping to the world below wouldn't go unnoticed; he knew the master had knowledge about his doings, but he never thought the master in person would come and face him about them. 

"We need to talk, Oikawa Tooru," _please, please, please, don't make me decide yet, I can't make a decision, yet, please._ "You have exposed us to the humans, have you not?"

Tooru was paralyzed, his brain wasn't getting enough blood, although what was blood for a dead god like him? Maybe he had never had blood, maybe the dark substance that came from his body when he got hurt was petroleum or maybe ink. Maybe this was not real and he was just a character in a roll painted with a magic brush and too much black ink. 

"Speak up, Tooru," the master never came in the room per se, he stood outside, where the light didn't hit him, but his presence was strong enough as to travel around the room and frighten Tooru to the core of his bones. 

"I—I—He's—He won't say anything. I just—I couldn't— Master, he would never…" the master cleared his throat and Tooru's words died with the sound. 

"You know you are not supposed to expose us to the humans."

"I know."

"And your fated human, of all. You did tell him you were going to kill him, am I right, Tooru?"

Tooru's heart was doing something strange and erratic in his chest. "I did."

"How do you think that is going to work with what you have to do?" It was a warming feeling, actually; it spread through all his body with every steady beat of his dead heart, and after a moment, Tooru comprehended what it was. 

Rage. 

"The same way as it would work haven't I said anything," Tooru stood again, his legs a bit shaken. "It will change absolutely nothing because he has to die if I want him to have an eternal soul, and he knows it."

"And what if he choose to stay with you, Tooru? What would you do then?" That put a hold to his anger. That didn't make sense because that had never been an option before. "What would you do if your Hajime says that he doesn't care about eternal life, that he only wants you. What then?"

"What, then? There is no what then. What would that be for him? Becoming a death spirit? A forest one? Why would I let him choose that over a life full of experiences?"

"Because it's not your choice anymore, Tooru; it's his," Tooru blinked several times at the master, unable to understand the words that were echoing in his brain. "You say you wouldn't let him choose that path, but it's your doing that he knows now it even exist. You are Death and Death is only a companion. Don't be mistaken, Tooru. You have no vote in Hajime's destiny anymore."

It hit him then, the truth. The master hadn't finished playing with them and now he left Tooru with a confused soul and a shaking body that couldn't find his pace again. What was that story about choices and about Hajime and about Tooru not being punished. What was all this crazy situation, where his master only spoke words that didn't make any sense to Tooru. 

"What the fuck," Kageyama's question was so on point that Tooru could only stare at him, blankly. 

 

"How could you even say it to him?"

"Why would you even do that! Didn't you propose a plan for us not to kill our humans?"

Tobio's and Yamaguchi's voices were loud and annoying. Akaashi and Kenma hadn't moved, not to face the master, not to face Tooru, not to face Tobio and Tadashi losing their shit at Tooru. 

"It's obvious that you have been losing your damn time all these weeks," Tooru said, his fingers tapping against the table with a nervous movement. "The only ones who can kill your humans are you, idiots."

"What," they said in unison. 

"What the fuck have you being doing all this time, Tobio-chan? Only cuddling with your human? You should have done some research at least," Tooru's fingers were shaking like earthquakes when he stood up and avoided to face them both. He was mad and his voice was trembling with confusion and frustration, but he couldn't face the expressions he was sure they were wearing. That kind of face that only the dead could make, because only they could understand what was the feeling of losing everything. 

"That's why Sugawara-san hasn't come back, isn't it?" Tooru saw Akaashi from the periphery of his vision and just nodded. "He discovered that he couldn't kill your human and vanished."

"I don't know where he is."

"Not you, not anyone."

Tooru couldn't bring himself to look Akaashi upfront, but there was something in that tone of his that made Tooru's instincts start to ring. "Why aren't you more surprised about this?" he asked, approaching Akaashi in a rush. He stood in front of the window and forced his brother to face him. "Akaashi," was the only thing he could say, even dropping the chan he always stick at the end of their names. He could see the truth in those dark, honest eyes of his. The damn bastard knew it. "Why wouldn't you say anything," Tooru managed to say, confused and hurt. 

"I discovered it yesterday," Akaashi's voice was plain and dry but Tooru could see the pain bright in his eyes. "I didn't know how to tell them, to be honest. I haven't contacted him since then. I don't know what to do."

That was a long and open-hearted confession and in another moment Tooru might had cared enough to comfort him. But he was mad. Angry at Akaashi to know the truth and keep it like a damn coward; at Tobio and Yamaguchi for having a full month of gloried ignorance; at Kenma, who seemed so far away from them that he didn't even look like he belonged here; at Suga to leave them. At himself, because he would have loved to have had two more months of full days with his Iwa-chan and at Iwa-chan to be too human to accept death just at it came. 

"And you waited for me to say anything?" Tooru had to hold his hand before he smashed Akaashi against the table. "How could you?"

"I was waiting for Kenma to say something, not you. I didn't even know you knew it."

Ah, the silence. That cutting silence that could make you choke with your own breathing. Tooru wasn't sure anymore if all the things he was feeling inside his chest were real or just ghost pain. He didn't even wanted to know. It hurt, Kenma's betrayal, more than anything else he could have done. Because what was unsaid, what was hidden beneath Akaashi's words was another truth, a truth Tooru could now see crystal clear.

"You have know since the beginning, haven't you," he said, voice dead. He was watching Kenma, but he wasn't seeing him anymore. How could he?, he didn't know who Kenma was any longer. "Way before I proposed that stupid plan and the hat and everything," Kenma kept his wet eyes focused in his hands and Tooru lost the small control he had over his emotions. "Just stop ignoring me! Answer the damn, question, Kenma! Did or did you not know it from the very beginning?"

He didn't say anything but he managed to nod, making Tooru's heart blow. Was there someone around him he could trust or was everyone destined to lie to him, to disappoint him?

Tooru couldn't say anything else. There were no words for the feelings that were bottling up inside him, there were no words for what Kenma had done to Tooru's soul. He had trusted him with his heart and Kenma, because he was scared and he probably thought he was protecting them in some wrong, mistaken way, had just destroyed it. 

He left the room without a word spoken and eyes as dead as his body had been all this time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I'm taking ages to update and I feel like shit 'cause I really wanna update sooner but I also wanna udpate with something sort of good ???? I re-wrote this chapter like three times and still I'm not sure if this is the best I can give you guys. I'm sorry. 
> 
> Like always, thank you so fricking much for reading and commenting and leaving kudos. You are awesome.

The smell of spring filled his burning lungs. The scent of the flowers and the trees so strong that even with the tears and the snot running down his nose and the fast breath that was destroying his ribs, Hajime could smell all of it. It was around him, embracing him, protecting him like an invisible cage. He sniffed loud and sound, his chest hurting with the movement and his legs shaking a bit too much; for the run, yes, but mostly for the bullies he had just left behind. 

He couldn't stop running, however. His legs were at their limit but fear was now the blood in his veins and he just couldn't stop. Hajime wasn't the scary type; he had always been brave, even for a five years old, but while the tears wet his cheeks and the spring warmed his skin, he had to accept that he was scared.

Hajime sniffed again and tried to clean his face with his dirty hand. He had his bug-net tightly held, like a sword ready to be used against the monsters that were following him. The feeling of the rough wood against his palm reassured him a bit, the illusion of protection a balsam for his tormented heart, that was racing furiously inside his chest. He felt tired, and sad. Fear was starting to look a lot like loneliness and Hajime hated loneliness more than anything else. 

The forest spoke around him and Hajime flinched, the bug-net rising in front of him like a shield that would barely protect him from any danger. His hands were shaking, his legs were trembling and he had to hold his breath to stop a whimper from escaping his lips. His left ear hurt quite a bit and it started to beat louder and louder with each second of absolute silence. Hajime hadn't realized until now, but the only thing he could hear were the trees against the wind. No animal or bug was making any sound around him. 

He stopped suddenly. His knees almost gave up and Hajime ended up falling into the ground when he tried to stabilize himself. His whole body was shaking furiously, fear crawling deep inside him. He didn't want to face his surroundings, he didn't want to see more of that unknown forest, of the green leafs that were talking to him, of all those possible monsters hidden in the shadows. Hajime was hurt and sad and lonely and for the first time since they've moved here, he couldn't bare the idea of all of it. He hugged his net so hard it hurt his neck and his chest and then he hugged himself, because he was scared that painful feeling was going to break him; and then he cried. 

Those tears were quite different from the ones before. These tears were filled with good-byes and a bit of shock; they talked about homes left behind and about changes, too many to even count; they spoke about how Hajime tried to be brave and mature, how he smiled brightly to his mom, who had been wearing a sad smile for too long. Those tears were all those feelings Hajime had been bottling up for months now and they just came out and were impossible to stop. 

The wind came across the forest again, strong and angry. Hajime made a ball of himself, holding tightly to his net and his knees and sobbed until his heart dried out. He just wanted to make friends; he just wanted something to be normal again, but school wasn't that fun anymore and the kids in the neighborhood were mean and stupid and he just wanted to go back home, where he had nice memories, where he felt safe. 

"What are you doing here?"

Hajime's heart almost stopped in his chest and he rose his head too fast, making himself dizzy with the movement. He had to hold a cry when he saw a man so close to him he could even see the different colors in his eyes. His head was leaning to the left, like a dog trying to understand an unknown order. He was all dressed in black and was kneeling in front of Hajime, studying him with a confused expression in his face. 

"Are you deaf, human? Is that why you are crying?" Hajime watched him in awe and too late managed to shake his head in answer. "Then? What are you doing here?"

Unable to keep looking at that pushing expression, Hajime hold his gaze into his hands and shrugged. 

"Am I supposed to understand that kind of… language?" the disdain in his voice was clearer enough to make Hajime grimace. "You are unable to speak, is that it?"

"I can speak," Hajime's voice sounded rough and low. 

"So it seems," the man looked at him a second more and then he smiled. Hajime didn't realize he was looking at him again until his heart skipped a beat at that smile of his. That smile was unfair. "And so, now that you can speak, mind telling me what are you doing in my mountain?"

"Is this yours, sir?" The grimace in the man's face was so exaggerated, Hajime found himself chuckling, tears still wetting his checks, the net still hugged tightly in his embrace. 

He was sure that grimace had moved in a small smile at Hajime's laugh before the stranger answered. 

"Well, it's not exactly mine, I've just taken a… like to it, I guess. It's quite beautiful, don't you think?"

Hajime wanted to answer, but the truth was he hadn't payed any attention to the mountain until now. He had just ran away from those kids and from all this new situation without looking at anything else. He closed his shoulders, trying to make himself small, and didn't dare to answer.

"Well, kid, it would be nice if you spoke," the man let himself fall back and sat in front of Hajime, his legs crossed, his face resting in his right hand while he studied Hajime with a bit too much intensity. "Are you one of those broken humans, perhaps?"

"I'm not broken!" Hajime felt his checks burn with a raged blush. "I was just… running," his voice did that thing kid's voices did when they were trying to hide some of their truths and the man, that seemed sharper than the other adults Hajime knew, raised an eyebrow. 

"Running, what an interesting activity to do in a wild forest, don't you think?" Hajime shrugged again and hugged his net closer, his shield and wooden sword. "Were you running for fun, or were you running away from something?" a shiver went down Hajime's spine at that last word and all the hidden meanings behind him. 

Hajime thought about the invisible monsters in the shadows of the trees and he watched the man with wary. He could be all those bad things Hajime was running from; he was, after all, a handsome stranger dressed like a dark priest in the middle of nowhere. Hajime wasn't the scary type, that's true, but he wasn't stupid either. He knew he had to be aware of some people. Some bad people. But it wasn't until now, he realized some bad people might not look bad at all.

"I was just running."

"People don't just run."

"Well, I do!" 

The stranger snorted at him and Hajime found himself staring blankly at him. He had no experience with adults of this kind, the weird kind. 

"Are you a pervert?" he managed to ask with a frown. "You look really weird so I bet you are."

"How rude of you!" the man put a hand atop his heart, as if Hajime's words had just wounded him. "I am no pervert! Don't you see what an amazing being I am?"

Hajime furrowed his brown even harder. He was pretty sure staying here wasn't a good idea and so he slowly stood up, the net wielded like a weapon, and started to take small steps back, never taking his eyes off the stranger. Hajime didn't really know what he was expecting, maybe a cold, menacing movement from the man; maybe some scary smile and some weird statement against Hajime's well being. Maybe a mix of all those. But while Hajime took another step away from him, the only expression he could read on the other's face was boredom; and sadness. 

It wasn't obvious, not like Hajime's sadness was, all damp against his checks and skin. The stranger stayed on the ground, his head resting atop his hand, never taking his gaze away from Hajime. He didn't try to chase the kid, nor did he say anything at all. His body language was telling Hajime how much he didn't care at all, but his eyes… were telling another story completely. 

Hajime wasn't the scary type, nor stupid, but he was impulsive and had small filter for his thoughts. That would be the reason he would use to excuse his behavior, but reality was Hajime saw those sad eyes and he saw a lonely soul like his, and he couldn't help himself. He knew how much it weighted, loneliness. He knew how much a person could crave for a friend or company or just a stranger to play with. He had been feeling like that for weeks now and so he understood that stranger's feelings better than if the man had explained them long and thorough. 

He stopped. It was Hajime's turn to lean his head to the side, studying the man, trying to understand how to approach him. 

"Would you like to catch beetles with me?" he finally said.

"What?" the stranger's voice was low and surprised, the hint of malice he had used before lost in that simple word.

Hajime scratched his left ear and grimaced. "If you want to catch beetles with me," he repeated it again, slowly, and watched the man as if he was an idiot. 

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because it's fun. But it's funnier when you do it with someone."

The stranger looked at Hajime and hold his answer, making the kid so self-conscious he started to move his weight from one feet to the other. "It's ok if you don't wanna! I get adults don't understand how amazing beetles can be. So, bye!"

He turned around in time for the stranger to crack in a weird laugh. Hajime, who was sensitive at people laughing at him, gazed at him again with death in his stare, making the man laugh even harder. "Oh, don't look at me like that! You were really cool talking to a stranger like that. More even after accusing me of being a pervert."

"You still look like a pervert," Hajime managed to say, red till the tip of his ears.

The stranger smiled, sadly, and Hajime frowned again. It wasn't right for a person to look so sad when they were not crying at all. "But you still want me to play with you?"

Hajime shrugged. "It's not fun to be lonely. And you really look like you need some fun."

"How rude of you, boy," but he didn't sound hurt at all; he didn't even sounded mad. He was just… wearing that boring-sad mask, as if it was an extension of his black robes. "What's your name?"

"Iwaizumi Hajime," he said quickly, and as quickly he regretted it, since he didn't even know the guy, he didn't even know if he was real or a monster or a demon from the mountain. "What's— what's yours?"

The stranger didn't say anything, he just watched Hajime, with those intense eyes, as if he was looking through him, as if Hajime wasn't even there. The kid started to shake, the fear crawling into his veins again, when the stranger stood gracefully. Hajime found himself taking another step back, unconsciously backing away from the tall adult. Because he was tall. Obviously Hajime lacked height because he was only five, not because he was short, but the stranger wearing all black, so beautiful he didn't even look human, Hajime was scared. 

The stranger must had noticed, since he smiled a bit at him, and without getting any closer, he rose his hand for Hajime to shake. "My name is Oikawa Tooru. Nice to meet you, Iwa-chan."

Hajime needed some seconds to come closer again and shook it, his hands stilling middle air while he forced himself to go over his own fears and show him how strong he was. He did try to push the issue, to command his hand to move and hold Oikawa's, but all his limbs were still a bit shaken. It wasn't exactly that he didn't' trust Oikawa, it was a more instinct reaction, something he couldn't quite comprehend, but that was holding him from touching that stranger for the first time. 

In some back room of his mind, Hajime knew this was special. That man was no regular man and Hajime's soul understood it better than his brain did. Shaking Oikawa's hand could change the world, or not change it at all. Hajime wasn't sure about what made this special, he only knew it was. And so he took a deep breath and he looked up and up and up, until his eyes meet Oikawa's sad ones and the decision was made. 

It didn't feel special, it didn't feel different from any other hand Hajime had touched before but it still was. Hajime shook Oikawa's hand with strength —maybe too much— and moved both hands up and down way too long; and then he looked up again and smiled so brightly he could have competed with the sun. 

"Now, let's go catch beetles, Oikawa! Come on, come on!"

Hajime started to run again, but this time he wasn't running away from anything at all; he started to run with someone, because of something and for the length of his life, Hajime would recall that moment as the one he began his race toward his future. 

 

Hajime woke up softly. He didn't move at all for a long minute, only his eyelashes dared to close and open once in a while. The dream —the _memory_ — was holding into Iwaizumi's mind with a grip stronger than iron, a part of him scared to let it go and lose it the way he had lost Oikawa. He was watching his bedsheets without seeing them, the smell of that spring fresh in his nose, the hurt in his ear bright as if he had just been hit, Oikawa almost there with him, his laugh embracing him. He had forgot how much it had meant, that moment. He had forgot he was lost and Oikawa had found him, although he was lost as well, and together they had found a new path; and a new home. 

Iwaizumi remembered, now. This was home, but it hadn't always been. It started to feel home when he met Oikawa, because he started to feel welcome and he started to feel he had a place —a someone— that was his and his only. It was one of those childhood beliefs, the certainty that Oikawa had been the beginning, although Iwaizumi had never been sure of what. Yes, at the time he had been the first friend, and the first weird-adult, and the first for many other things that were small and not important when counted separately, but that made a world when they were put together. Oikawa had been the beginning and now that Iwaizumi knew all the truth, he could finally understand of what. That first day on that magic mountain had been the beginning of Iwaizumi's life and the beginning of his death. 

A heavy sound took him away from his thoughts. Iwaizumi was weak and his body felt heavier than usual and he needed to hear another heavy thud and a curse to remember why. 

He sighed soundly and put his forearm in front of his eyes. The sun was hitting him, now, the light too bright against his skin. It was past midday, Iwaizumi guessed, and when the voices in the other side of the door started to get louder and louder, he sighed again and stood up. 

Kuroo and Daichi were trying to drag Bokuto out of the couch, while Hinata was grimacing still sound asleep on the ground. For a second there, Iwaizumi couldn't remember the reason why all of them were in his house, but once again, none of them usually acted with logic at all.

"Fuck, Bo, you weight like a damn truck full of bricks."

"How would you know?" Bokuto asked, smiling like an idiot while he played the I'm dead, I will let you carry all my weight with pleasure. "Have you been working out without telling me? Bro, you have to share those things!"

"Shut up, damn owl, and get up."

Hinata huffed on the ground. "Shit, sorry Hinata." Daichi took his feet away from the boys face and looked at him with an apologizing expression. 

"I think I'm dying," the kid said without opening his eyes, his brow furrowed and his face almost green. Hajime had a bad feeling about it. 

"It's the hangover, kid."

"I'm dying," Hinata repeated before he stood up in a fast movement and raced to the bathroom. They heard him vomiting and while Bokuto and Kuroo giggled, Hajime sighed, feeling the weight of their presence falling into his shoulders. 

"Oh, good morning sunshine!" Kuroo's voice was too high for a hangover morning and he knew it. Hajime growled low in his throat and went through them to the kitchen. He almost whimpered when he saw fresh coffee on the table. 

He was pouring coffee in his mug when Daichi joined him. "How are you feeling?" Hajime shrugged, because he knew Daichi was not asking about his physical state and because he didn't want to lie. "That bad, huh?"

"Why are you all here?"

"A wrong feeling of brotherhood, I would say."

Hajime took a sip of his coffee and raised an eyebrow. "Which means—?"

Daichi's eyes were too serious for Hajime's liking, but he didn't averted his gaze. "Loneliness is a bitch," didn't Hajime know it well. "You've had the worst week of your life," again, Hajime was aware of the fact. "And, to be honest, I didn't want to leave you alone to go through it."

"We had dinner yesterday, Daichi," Hajime reminded him, because this was not a Bokuto again, because Hajime wasn't going to get himself into a dark hole, because this was Hajime so close to his death that he didn't even know how to face the fact or his friends, for that matter. 

"And then we had drinks. A lot of them," Hinata in the bathroom making the most disgusting sounds was proof of that. "It's not wise to be alone and hurt when you drink your weight in alcohol."

"So, you are all here to protect me from doing something stupid," Hajime felt a mix of feelings, gratitude and annoyance, tiresome and love. "I don't need a babysitter, Daichi."

"No, but you need friends; I mean, man, I think we all needed a bit of… this. Did you see Hinata yesterday? He started sobbing the minute he finished his first drink."

That was a legit point but Hajime only managed to shrug, unable to bring himself to answer properly. He knew his friends deserved more —more as to know Hajime's imminent future, for example— but truth was Hajime was too focused on his own despair to focus on anything else. Since Oikawa left him a week ago, this huge void in his chest had started to grow until it became this monster so big he couldn't even fit inside Hajime anymore. 

Hajime's logic knew he was being stupid and over-emotional over the simple fact that Oikawa was gone; he had so much more besides Oikawa: a life, a job he loved, those kind of friends that would stay with him even when he was not being himself… He had everything a person would want, and yet he was still mourning. 

The death rushing towards him may had had something to do with it as well, but Hajime couldn't bring himself to think about it too much. He was human and at the end of the day, even when he played the brave card with Oikawa, he still didn't want to die. He had so much to do, so many things to see, so much to say… The fact was, it was so much that Hajime's mind was unable to think about it without blowing up, and so he didn't think about it at all.

It became a dull pain in his head, something always present but that he managed to ignore. He missed Oikawa but he kept going to work and he kept breathing and he kept functioning; he was scared to die, but he kept following his routine, because doing anything else would mean he accepted his fate, and he had yet to reach that step. 

"Hajime," Daichi's expression was filled with concern and the dull pain in Hajime's brain rang louder. "If something else happened… you would share it, wouldn't you?"

"What else could have happened, Daichi? You've been my shadow for the last week."

Daichi's expression didn't flinch a bit. "Don't treat me like an idiot, Iwaizumi. I might not been pushing the issue, but I know you haven't told me all the truth. I get you wanna hold onto your secrets, but don't take me for a fool."

Hajime felt guilt grip his heart and he grimaced, death so close to him he could start to feel its cold embrace around his shoulders. Knowing Daichi had reality in his fist didn't help at all, because Iwaizumi wasn't fond of being wrong but even more, because Hajime hated to be a liar. But, what else was there to say? What could Iwaizumi possibly tell Daichi about his imminent future? He knew he had to put it down into words somehow, he knew he had to prepare them for what was coming, but… Hajime was bad at changes. He liked the known pattern of routine, of controlled steps, of obvious behavior. The only way he had managed to cope with all the changes in his life had been Oikawa and now Oikawa was gone. He didn't have his safe place anymore and so he was at a loss. He couldn't prepare his friends because he was unable to prepare himself first, and so the only solution left was to lie. 

Hajime had to look away from Daichi at the thought of him, being a liar, would be the last thing his friends would ever remember of him. "I'm just trying to get used to him… not being… here…" Hajime's words came out weird, too much space between those lies covered in truth. 

"I don't—"

Hinata entered the kitchen, cutting Daichi's reply. His face was white as paper and his eyes were as swollen as they were red. Hajime looked at him and his heart cried a bit, for that sadness so wrong in such a happy spirit. 

"Are you feeling better, Hinata?"

"No."

What an honest answer. Hajime understood the kid wasn't only talking about his physical state, but about the wound in his emotions. None of them knew what had happened to Hinata but it was obvious for the fading light in his eyes it was something important. 

"Do you need anything?" Daichi said with concern, while Bokuto and Kuroo entered the kitchen, as loudly as always. 

"What he needs is cake!" Bokuto said cheerfully. "Cake's the solution for all problems in the world!"

"That could work if it wasn't him who makes the cakes, Bo." Hinata managed to smile a bit, the tint of sadness turning what should be the sun shinning through the clouds a sad twinkle of a star. "Thank you, Bokuto-san. But I'm not really in the mood to eat anything. At all."

"That's logic, given you just vomited all your stomach out of your mouth," Kuroo shrugged at Hinata's grimace. "Do you wanna throw up all your emotions now as well, so you are wrecked enough to cry yourself to death?"

It wasn't the best way to put it, but Hajime had to give Kuroo credit about the casual way he just said it. That sort of _we are here if you need to talk, so don't even think you are alone for a second, kid._

Hinata shrugged and hid his gaze from all of them. "I—my sort, of, eh, boyfriend kind of dumped me?" It came out as a question while his voice lowered until it was only a whisper. "I don't know why, though; he was just— he doesn't make much sense per usual but yesterday he was specially… weird."

"Oh, Shrimp," Kuroo's voice was filled with pity and camaraderie. "I'm sorry, It's worst when you can't have a closure."

Hinata frowned. "I will have a closure. I mean, I'm not letting him put me aside just like this—. I'm not going to let him finish us because he got weird over some stupid idea. But…" Hinata embraced himself and kept his gaze on the ground. "It still hurts. A lot."

Iwaizumi was in a sort of trance. He was looking at Hinata and he was listening to Hinata and he felt sorry for the kid, but all those emotions were shouted down by this annoying high pitch sound in his head. It was so loud it was starting to make him feel dizzy and out of his own body. It was so much that, for a second, he couldn't even see what he had in front of him. 

Here he was, the liar of the liars, the honest guy who was unable to be honest even with himself, and it had to be a kid braver than him who finally opened his eyes. He had been mourning for a week and he had been telling Daichi he was mourning Oikawa, but with Hinata's words into his brain, he understood the truth.

He wasn't crying for Oikawa; in fact, he was so scared of Oikawa he couldn't even face the idea of meeting him again. Hajime loved the bastard with all his heart but he was human and he was afraid and his emotions were such a mess he had needed to see Hinata's resolution to finally face himself. Hajime loved Oikawa, but he didn't want to see him again; he couldn't see him again. Because Hajime knew his truth and knew Oikawa's truth as well now, and the truth that met in between those both was scarier than anything Hajime had had to face before. 

Hajime was heartbroken, yes. And he was scared, yes. But what Hinata's resolution helped him see crystal clear, what had taken him a full week of walking around himself as if he was made of broken glass, was this:

He loved Oikawa but if the choice was his, he would never see him again. He couldn't take that step, and the truth he saw in Hinata's eyes while the kid said again he was going to fight for that important person of his was that Hajime wouldn't be able to do the same. Because he was scared and because Oikawa had always been the one saving him from pain and from monsters in the shadows and from everything. 

What Hinata made clear to Hajime with his plain words filled with emotion was this:

Hajime was a coward. He had always thought himself brave and fearless but now he realized it had never been his strength what had kept him on and on and on. He had had his own strength, so long ago, but in that old and forgotten mountain he had given it away; he had gifted it to a monster he wasn't able to recognize as it and, since he had being in the shadow of said monster for the length of his life, he had never, not once, needed that strength. 

What Hajime understood under all his layers of lies was this: he loved Oikawa more than what he himself could begin to understand, but the human fear he had always thought himself save from was, in fact, embracing him like a beloved mother. And that fear, because Oikawa had protected him all those years, was telling him this: 

_You love Oikawa with all your might but, Hajime…_

_…you love yourself more._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know the fuck is this chapter, really. I just— I don't know. I've been writing for three days to bring this up, but I'm not even sure ??????? Anyways, I hope it makes sense and I hope it brings something else than just sense ??? 
> 
> LIKE ALWAYS, THANK YOU FOR READING AND THE COMMENTS AND STICKING WITH ME ALTHOUGH THIS IS WEIRD AS SHIT. U ARE SO AWESOME I REALLY WANNA CRY.

Tooru didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He didn't talk. He did nothing at all for the length of eight days. He ignored his brothers, although they didn't seem eager to come talk to him either. He would had felt annoyed in another time but now his soul was so empty there was nothing left to feel.

Hajime, that he felt. A bit swollen and a bit ghostly. He hadn't realized how much he had cared for his brothers until Kenma had destroyed that love with his own selfishness. It was such a hard hit to take he couldn't even bare to feel anything else. Tooru was dead, but he now desired to have his soul dead as well. 

He thought, however, much for his disregard. He thought about death and about murder; he thought about what he was doomed to do and what doing it would do to his already shattered soul. He thought, but he was unable to focus too much in anything at all. Tooru spent eight days in his bed, starving himself to death although no death would ever take him out of his misery, looking at the ceiling of his room, waiting for the world to collapse or to keep rotating at the same speed as always. Tooru felt like an empty shell; everything mattered too much but not enough for him to try and change any of it. And anyway, even if he had the strength to try and change it, what could he even do? He was a shinigami and because of his nature now Hajime had to die. There was no change because Tooru had signed their fates the day he met Hajime so many years ago in that magic mountain. 

The days came and went and Tooru watched the light change around him and wondered why that was the only thing that had the privilege to do so. By the end of the eight day Tooru just wanted to rip his rib cage open and take his heart out but when he tried to force his limbs to follow the order, not even for that had he strength enough. Not even to calm his own sadness could he do anything at all. Tooru stayed in his bed and wondered about fate and about his own inability to do anything in the right way, not even feeling. 

Gods, he was so tired of feeling…

"Tooru," the voice came soft from the entrance and although it was the sound of a whisper, Tooru heard it as if someone was screaming besides his ear. Eight days of silence had broken something else than just Tooru's soul; he now realized he had jeopardized his sanity as well. 

He didn't answer because he wasn't even sure that voice was real or just another trick of his wounded mind. 

"Tooru, please—" it came again, and again Tooru's body didn't even flinch, although the soft words were screaming in his brain like a death penalty. "It's been too long. You need to get out— You need to go to Hajime."

It was like an electric shock, hearing the name. It did something weird to Tooru's heart, that started to beat faster, but he still couldn't find the strength to even blink. Only his insides were burning and for a second Tooru thought he had finally reached hell. 

"Tooru—" Kenma's voice was broken, as broken as Tooru was. It was funny, really, how much Tooru didn't care although he was caring so much he couldn't even think straight. Love was a poison, he thought now, the epiphany bright as the sun after months of deathly storms. Love was a poison and Tooru, because he was the idiot of the idiots, had been taking it for years, unaware that while he thought he was giving and receiving one of the most beautiful things out there he was, in fact, killing himself slowly, slowly, until his insides were upside-down, until his body was so filled with feelings it was now numb, until he just drowned himself in his own stupidity. "I'm sorry." He didn't care, but his mouth couldn't find the strings to move and let Kenma know that his apologize was unwanted, so he kept talking. "I know— I know you are mad at me, but I— Tooru, you had a month with him; you had a beautiful moment with him and I just thought— I didn't wanna take it away from you."

Rage was a funny thing too. How powerfully it could burn, that had even the power to vaporize poison. 

"But you did. You did!" he stood and the world spun around him but Tooru couldn't care less because the only thing he could focus on right now was the small silhouette of Kenma and the hate, that burning hate inside his chest that was killing him, the same way that poisonous love had done this long eight days, this long eternity of a life he had been living until now. "You let me believe I could have him and my soul! You let me believe I could live without his death's weight upon my shoulders! You know me, Kenma, you know how my soul works; you know it best than anyone because that's what you do! And even with that knowledge, you decided to destroy me! You decided to trick me into believing I could have everything. I don't care if you thought you were doing it for the right reasons! We both know you weren't! You were just as scared as all of us and fucked it up!"

Tooru was breathless. His heart was stuttering inside his chest, half alive, half dead. It almost stopped at Kenma's teared face but he had been soul-dead for eight days, so he would need something stronger than that to bring him back to life. He would need something stronger than those silent tears filled with regret to forget the betrayal that was stuck through his chest like a sword. He watched Kenma, though, because now that Tooru had finally left the bed and the ceiling behind there was nothing else to focus on. 

"I'm sorry," Kenma's voice was so soft Tooru didn't even hear the scream inside his head, he just read his teary lips and his words, that were almost able to create colors between them both. Kenma was sorry and Tooru couldn't even believe he dared to say that damn plea and expect something from Tooru in return. 

"I don't care," Tooru's body was stiff and he barely breathed and he barely moved but his words were red, as the hatred he was unable to hold and keep at bay. 

"I know," it would have been the saddest reply in another lifetime, but Tooru had made himself grow out from caring, so now he just stared because there was nothing else to say. "I know and I am so sorry. I thought—" Kenma couldn't bare to look at Tooru any longer, so he averted his gaze, finally, and embraced himself because if he did otherwise he would end up falling apart. "I thought you deserved a moment with your human, without the knowledge that you were— that we were—the reason behind their deaths. You deserved a moment of happiness with your Hajime, Tooru. You deserved a lifetime but I thought—I could give you at least a small portion of that."

Tooru listened and kept his mouth quieted. Rage was bumping against his temples, making thinking almost impossible, but he forced himself to shut up and listen. It was Kenma's truths, there, between all those lines of sorrys and tears, of those words that said just a portion of everything Kenma wanted to share. Tooru listened because deep down he still had this huge and useless heart, filled with poison that was spilling around its flesh and falling into Tooru's insides and making a mess of it, because that's what Tooru was, a mess.

He kept listening to the silence when Kenma's words stopped and his tears kept falling in that way without-even-breathing he had. He kept looking at his brother and he kept feeling the sword through his chest and he kept seeing the poison painting his body with black ink instead of the red blood of rage. Tooru wanted to keep his rage but with Kenma's cleaning tears, it just washed away; Tooru wanted to keep his numbness when the rage vanished, but his heart was beating too fast, the poison almost choking it with its furious need to be alive, and when the feelings returned and almost destroyed Tooru's sanity once again, Tooru wished for death to come to him again and save him from all this pain he couldn't even start to comprehend. 

"Nothing justifies what you did to me," Tooru managed to gasp, all husky voice. "I get why, but you destroyed me. I trusted you, Kenma. I thought— I thought we were brothers and that meant something, but you destroyed that and threw it to my face. I don't know how to face you anymore because I thought you would cherish my most beloved thing in this life, but you just— you just—"

"Tooru—"

"No, I don't wanna hear it anymore. I don't care. I can't care anymore, don't you understand? I have nothing else left."

Kenma's shoulders closed around himself, as if Tooru's words had hit him so hard in the chest he lost his breathing for a second. Tooru saw him trying to keep himself glued together, the arms still holding his chest, the legs shaking almost giving up at Kenma's weight; or maybe at Tooru's weight and his rage and his words and his love that didn't look like love anymore. 

"Is that everything?" Tooru said with broken words. "If that's everything, please leave."

Kenma shook his head and cleared his throat away from the tears that still damped his face. "The master wanted to see you. He's waiting for you in his rooms."

He didn't comment on why the master had chosen Kenma to deliver the message and neither did Tooru ask. He was done with the Master's secret plans to destroy them or break them until there was no returning point. He was done with his brothers and their naivety and with Kenma and his words unsaid and with his fate, painted in black and with death written all over it in bright white. He was done, because there was nothing else left for him. 

Not in life, not in death.

 

The Master's rooms were eerily silent but Tooru didn't give a second thought to it. They were big enough to be filled with thirty guests to sit without touching each other. It looked sad with only an small altar at the end of the wall, surrounded by paper doors that weren't sheltering the room from the sun's light at all. The shadows were creating patterns on the tatami of the ground, almost moving as if they had life of their own. Tooru wondered if they actually did, if those shadows coming from heaven's sun were actually ghosts that got stuck here for eternity. 

The Master was nowhere to be seen but once again, he had this way of hiding even in plain sight. Tooru kneeled in front of the wooden altar and waited, because there was nothing else to do. He watched the incense burn and the smoke draw in the air, and he waited. His mind tried to wander but he was too tired to even do as much, so he waited, a perfect end for eight days of pure misery. 

"Oikawa Tooru," the voice felt soft against Tooru's ears, around his naked neck and his dead gaze. He felt the Master's presence around him, as if it was the same oxygen of the air that filled heaven. "I want to speak with you about your human."

Tooru had lost his voice again; his voice and his thoughts and his ability to feel, and so he said nothing and he kept staring blankly at the altar even when the dark form of the Master manifested itself besides Tooru. 

"You have no words to me today, when a week ago you couldn't even hold your opinions?" it was a question that demanded an answer but who could answer when there were no words and no answer at all. "Have you made up your mind all these days you've been whimpering in your room, Tooru?

"Have you decided the way you are going to take your Hajime back home? Death needs to be prepared and act with thought and logic, Tooru. You are not allowed to be emotional."

Tooru wanted to laugh but the air was too filled with the Master and his existence and with that damn ether that was specific from heaven and that felt too weird and too dead. It was funny because a shinigami shouldn't be emotional in the least but Tooru was the worst emotional mess one could come across with and he couldn't even hid it anymore. 

"Look at me, Tooru," Tooru looked at him because the order had power and that power didn't care about souls shattered or about strength lost or about souls wrecked and so Tooru compiled and faced his Master and his hangman. He was wearing black, like all of them, but his clothes were fancier and shinier, his skin pale although it seemed to turn into black feathers when it reached the limits of his clothing. Tooru tried to avoid his eyes, because even if he was dead his instinct knew better than to face the boogieman itself, but the order was clear and Tooru followed. They were pitch black and for a second Tooru found himself falling into the darkest of the cliffs without any escape in sight. He was almost dead although no dead could ever die when the Master's crow cawed and shifted its position in top of his shoulder, saving Tooru from the darkness and anchoring him in reality once again.

Tooru was panting as if he just had ran the distance of three countries. He had sweat falling down from his temples and a weird knot in his chest that was hard to swallow. The crow moved his wings lightly catching Tooru's attention once more, protecting the shinigami from the absolute power of his master. It was a safe spot to glue his gaze and avoid the falling that was the Master's eyes.

"Speak," the order, again, didn't leave space to disobey. 

"I am emotional," Tooru admitted with a dead voice. "I care and I am not fitted for this command. I am too involved with Iwaizumi Hajime's life to take it away."

"That's not acceptable."

"I was not asking, Master; I was pointing out the fact," his voice was still empty of feelings, although his chest was burning with rage and sadness. "If I kill Hajime, I will destroy myself with it."

"You are death, Tooru; you don't have the right to be destroyed."

"I don't think that will prevent me from getting destroyed, though."

"You believe I was wrong when I picked you for this, aren't you."

Tooru's eyes shone with a spark of rage to that unfair statement. "I think," he said, slowly, counting his breaths, almost tasting his own words before spilling them out, "this was not chosen depending on our suitability. I think," he tried to swallow the dark knot in his throat, "you chose us to punish us, Master, because we crossed the line and fell in love with a living being instead of keeping our business in Heaven and in Death."

"Do you think my reasons are that simple?"

"I don't think punishment is simple at all," Tooru retorted fast and warm, his checks burning with a growing emotion Tooru wasn't sure he could even control. He was confused and still a bit numb but this damn wave was starting to take over his body and he didn't know how to calm it down again. "Loving a human is taboo and so we now face the consequences."

"Your vision is too simple, Tooru," the Master's tone sounded dangerously mocking and for a second Tooru didn't know what to do with a master able to laugh. "You think I will put in danger death just to punish some brats that thought themselves smart enough as to break the rules without anyone else noticing? I am not the Master of Heavens because I put death and life in an easy and stupid danger as you believe me to, Tooru. Try harder."

Tooru couldn't try harder because he had tried everything and everything had failed him. He didn't get what the Master expected from him and so he stayed in silence and watched the crow watch him back with those black eyes filled with the same mockery that had filled the Master's voice. 

"You still fail to see it, don't you, Tooru," Tooru didn't answer since there was no answer to give. "This is not your punishment. This is the end of your training. I have known since the very beginning that every single one of you had fallen in love with a human destined to die early in life and that's why I chose you. Your love for your humans was your last test as a shinigami, because only a shinigami that can love life as much as a living being can, can be a true God of Death. This is no punishment, Tooru, this is the final step of your trainings."

"What," he said without a voice.

"You've reached such a far point in the shinigami's lines because you care and because you have a heart and a soul even when you are all dead. You've reached this point because you were fated to love a human in death and you were meant to be that same human's death once the time came."

"So we were the reasons behind their deaths," Tooru's husked voice hurt when it came out of his lips. "If I hadn't fallen in love with him, Hajime would had had a life full of—˝

"Oh, Tooru, why are you so naïve," the word shut Tooru down faster than a blow to the nose. "You fell in love with humans that were already marked by early death. You don't have the power to inflict such decision in human lives yet, Tooru; and you will probably never have it. You are a companion, don't ever forget that because you will never be the reason, just the means to and end. I've been trying to teach you this for centuries now, why can't you remember such a basic lesson?"

The air was tight and warm around Tooru and inside Tooru's lungs and after three seconds Tooru realized he wasn't breathing anymore. 

"Once you kill Hajime you will become a real shinigami. He's your final step, Tooru."

"He's not a damn step! He's a human and he is mine!"

"But he's not, Tooru. He was never yours to begin with. You always thought you were the reason behind all your relationship but that's not true. You were a puppet as much as he was."

"And you think that makes it better?" Tooru's rage came to him like a wave, drowning him. There was something specially wrong in the soft and carefree voice the Master was talking about all of this. "We were puppets and who cares if we suffer because of it, right? The main goal is to create Gods of Death, everything else is not important."

"Exactly," that word burned Tooru's skin because it was softly said and because it was as raged as Tooru's will had been a second ago. "That's how fate works. We are puppets, even being gods of whatever we are. Things need to happen in a specific order and so we compel. That's what we do, no matter suffering and no matter who gets hurt and who gets killed. You should know this, Tooru. Because you were brought back to existence to fulfill this request of fate and you cannot escape from it."

Silence could have been a blessing if it wasn't so filled with words and tension and knowledge no one really wanted. 

"So, I have to kill him because there's nothing else to do and I just have to be fine with it?"

"I didn't say there was nothing else to do. In fact, I recall telling you it was not your choice anymore. Which, if you payed any attention to why I said to you once in a while, means there's another option."

"I told you I'm not turning him in an insubstantial spirit."

"Once again, it's not your choice, but that's not the only one out there."

Tooru could hear his dead heart beat loudly pounding into his ears. "What."

"That's all I have to say. I've given you too many clues. Go figure out the rest on your own." Tooru's body was frozen on the ground, his heart going madly fast inside his chest. He couldn't take his eyes away from the Master, that was risen, and his crow, that was still watching him with a weirdly apologizing gaze. "Oh, and let Kenma know about what you find out before he makes some stupid decision and tries to destroy his existence once again because of his guilt, would you?"

The next second, the Master was gone and his crow was gone and the sun left the room and Tooru found himself alone in the darkness, wondering if at some point in his eternal existence something would start to make sense, even if it was just a little. 

 

He found Kenma faster than what he thought he would. His brother was in Sugawara's spot at the end of their cloud, knees held against his chest. He was watching the world below with an empty expression that didn't fool Tooru even one bit. Tooru didn't say anything when he sat besides him and hugged his own legs, mimicking Kenma in his silent sadness. He watched far away from their cloud, to a white, snowy mountain where a group of hikers were facing a coming storm.

Tooru didn't ask but really, was there something unclear about the way Kenma's eyes were filled with tears, in the way he was unable to take his gaze from the humans?

The storm came fast and hit them, hiding them from Heaven for a second, until Kenma moved subtly his wrist and made the clouds transparent so they could still watch the show. Tooru thought if all of this had been Kenma's plan, if he decided to kill his human in this twisted way, or if he was just wishing for another death to come for him and save himself the pain. 

The humans ran and hid, trying to beat a storm that was meant to destroy every piece of life it found. They watched them fight against nature for hours, and for all that time Kenma said nothing, and meanwhile Tooru thought.

It was dark in the world below when Tooru dared to gaze Kenma again, because he couldn't bare the silence any longer. He had those silent and heartbreaking tears running down his checks again, his face as impassive as it had been since the first day Tooru met him. His lips were pressed tight one against the other, though, and his hands were small fists against his knees. And the tears kept running and running. Tooru wondered if the salty tears were a preview from the flood that was taking down Kenma's heart. 

"Kenma," he said, softly and broken because it had been hours and lives since he last used his voice. "What are you doing."

"He never dies," Kenma said instead of answering. His eyes were still in the humans, now covered in white snow. "He goes and goes against death over and over again but he never dies. I started to believe he was not meant to die."

Tooru wanted to say something but he found himself empty of words, and it pained to remember he hadn't had words for Suga either, and now Suga was gone. 

"Kenma, you know—"

"I know," he hugged himself tighter. "I've known since the beginning, remember? I've always known I would have to kill him. But—"

More hours passed, because when there are no words the best solution is to let silence fill the space and maybe fill the hearts, if one's lucky. They stayed sat on the fluffy cloud, watching humans fighting against a natural disaster, and tried to enjoy silence. 

When the humans were rescued Kenma let out a soft sigh and Tooru felt his heart ache. 

"Why are you here, Tooru? You don't need to babysit me."

"If I told you we were never the reason, would that make for a good explanation?"

Kenma's shoulders stiffed, only sign he had heard Tooru's voice at all. He kept glaring at the humans, now safe in camp. He didn't answer for a long time, so long Tooru thought he wouldn't answer at all. 

"You mean—" he finally said, with his plain voice and his empty expression. "You mean it was not our fault?"

"Yeah," Tooru had to clear his throat twice. "Yeah, that's exactly what I mean."

"And that everything was just a…"

"It doesn't really matter what all of this was, does it?" Tooru tried to comfort Kenma, but he knew deep down he was trying to comfort himself. "Things are as they are, no matter why, and things need to be as they need to be, no matter what. We were just sort of caught on it, I guess. Or maybe this was always meant to be, from us dying and becoming this— to them living and finding us."

Kenma had to think about it some more silent time that Tooru gave him, pleasantly. 

"Does that helps you? Does the weight in your shoulders hurt less with that knowledge?"

It didn't. It reminded true that Tooru was madly in love with Hajime, who would had to die, who Tooru would have to kill. It reminded true that Tooru had lived the happiest moments of his existence (alive or dead) with that human of his and destroying him will literally damage one of the most important parts of Tooru's soul. But…

"It won't make killing him less harder. And probably won't make keep existing less harder either, but. I guess it magnifies all of it, to know we were meant to be, to know that I am the caretaker of Hajime's soul, whatever he wants to do with it."

Kenma did look at him this time. "So you know now?"

"Know what?"

"That there's more than death in their end. That there's more than one choice for both."

Tooru shouldn't have felt so hurt by Kenma's knowledge, but once again Kenma always knew more than anyone else and it had been Tooru's mistake to forget that. Twice.

"I don't really know, Kenma," he said in a weird voice, because he wanted to still be mad at Kenma —and he still was hurt, but in the big scheme of things, the pain he felt for Kenma's hidden secrets was almost nothing in comparison with Hajime's upcoming death—, but he needed the support even more. "The Master and his tricky ways of talking. He just said there was more, but I don't know what that means and I don't know if I will want that."

"It's not your choice."

"That's what he said."

"And it's true."

Tooru saw another truth in those words, and sighed deeply. "Ah, Kenma," Kenma hid his chin inside his embrace and Tooru's heart shrank a bit. "I'm so sorry you had to do all of this alone. I could have— Gods, Kenma, you could have told me and I would have been there for you. Why would you go through this alone?"

"Because I thought we were the reason, Tooru. Why would I do that to you? Why would I destroy your opportunity to have a lifetime of good memories?"

There were thousands of answers to that question, but Tooru said nothing and Kenma said nothing and so they let the silence fill their air again, and let pain come and go from their skins. And for a second, they were glad, because they were not alone in misery anymore. At least, for a little while.

 

The decision was easy, when the time came. Because there was no decision at all. Tooru moved on instinct, although he had spent three weeks thinking all of it through. But when the moment flew to him, he had known what to do without even a thought and that sealed the deal. 

It was logic, and sort of romantic, if Tooru allowed himself to think about it. It was almost a cosmic sign that it had to be here, in this tiny spot where they had started and where they had learned and where they had cared so much. It was their magic mountain, after all, their safe space, because it had been the beginning.

And it was only perfect for it to be the end too. 

Tooru didn't know how he knew, but he did. He had the absolute certainty that Hajime would be here too, maybe because this was destiny, or maybe because Tooru's soul was inevitably connected to Hajime's soul; but whatever the reason, when Tooru came across the trees and entered the small clear space with the tiny stone altar where Hajime used to hid his toys, there was no surprise at the sight of Iwaizumi's brought shoulders and stiff back. 

They were meant to be. 

In life. And in death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And next chapter is the end, everyone. And yes, there's gonna be tears (I HOPE ANYWAY).


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years…
> 
> …almost. I am extremely sorry and I know this is shit when you like a story, because waiting it's like the worst thing out there and I'm really, really sorry to have taken this long. I'm not gonna put any excuses because who needs them. It's been 84 years and finally here it is, the last chapter.
> 
> I did cry writing this, which doesn't mean you will do so (I HOPE IT THO, BECAUSE SUFFERING, YA KNOW). 
> 
> (ps. Claudia, my dear on the shadows, I hope you know this has seen an end because you were there pushing for it. Hadn't you been there, this would have never been finished. Thank you.)

It was hard for a while after Hajime realized his own feelings. He didn't like to be this kind of dense idiot who was unable to even see his own reality, but that was what Hajime had grown up to be, so there was no need to keep whimpering about it. It took some days for Hajime to get back into his feet, though. Finally facing all those hidden layers inside your own caves had a huge price over anyone's sanity and adding the upcoming end of his life to the mix was only too much. During those days Hajime's mind started a journey to the past and it stayed there for agonizing hours. There were memories of Tooru in that damn mountain, there were memories of Tooru in Hajime's window at night, there were memories of a shadow in a volleyball match, watching Hajime, encouraging Hajime, screaming his name although only Hajime was able to hear him; there was the time when Hajime had to leave for college and Tooru left him for a while as well; there was the time when Tooru came back and although he was the same he was more different than ever; there was that day when Hajime lost in the semi-finals during college and Tooru spent a whole night beside him in silence, shoulder to shoulder; that was the night Hajime started to realize it was something completely different, what he really felt for Tooru. (That was also the beginning of Hajime's run away from him.) There was the time he started the clinic with Daichi and Tooru had brought him enough food to feed a family of eight to celebrate, and the time when things seemed to not be working at all, and Tooru had brought food again, as if that was the best way to tell someone everything was going to be okay. 

And then there was the day Tooru came to Hajime, with his sad smile and his eyes filled with emotion, with that look that had been doing weird things to Hajime's insides since the end of high school. It hadn't been a special day, because they were doing the same as always, but for some reason, while Tooru had rested his head in Hajime's shoulder, it had felt completely different. There was the stunning beating of Hajime's heart loud in his ear, like a war field, and there had been Hajime's blood running faster than ever and hotter than ever and the itchy feeling in the tips of his fingers, as if his own body was telling him how much he wanted to feel Tooru a bit closer. 

It was so obvious that it had taken Hajime a life to understand how much he actually loved Tooru and his full existence. It was how much Hajime cared for him, that he had even become sick out of worry; it was the knowledge that, when things went wrong, a friendly hand would be there to hug him or help him, hit him or feed him. It was the absolute certainty that, when Tooru was around, Hajime was the happier he could ever be, as simple as that; as simple as a head resting in a shoulder or Tooru's face lightened in a sad smile trying to cover his own restless soul. 

Hajime thought long and through about those memories and all the ones in between. He went to work, he met with his friends, he ate with Kuroo and lived his life like a normal human being, but inside he was just… drawn in those memories, in all that reality that was more matter-of-fact than history itself. Hajime loved Tooru and hated Tooru; Hajime was going to die, and once he thought that, he couldn't undo it, so it never went away; Hajime missed Tooru so much he sometimes had problems to breath. There was a life he needed to put on hold or try to fix or just amend for a bit before he left this world, but there was so much a man-meant-to-die could do and Hajime's limit was Oikawa. As much as Hajime wanted to be the strong man he thought he was, facing reality without Oikawa's presence and Oikawa's support was just an impossibility. As much as Hajime didn't want to see him again, he was unable to function properly without him near.

When his mind understood that, the rage came. Hajime was in pain and he was in love and he was scared; Hajime was human and although he had tried to play it off and be brave, he _was human_ and he was angry at life to be so short, and to Oikawa specially for being its accomplice. Human, human, human. He hated that word and everything it implied. He was human so he had to die. He was human, so he had to fear. He was human, so he had to be scared of Oikawa. He was human, so he would never have a forever with Tooru. Human; it sounded more like a course than anything else. 

Hajime had never been a person of extremes. Life would happen and Hajime would adapt; plans would change, and Hajime would adapt; life would break, and Hajime would adapt. But Hajime was not himself when Oikawa was in the picture, was he? As with life and with death, maybe Oikawa was the other side of the coin Hajime thought himself to be. Maybe, just maybe, the fact that Oikawa was opposite to Hajime in every aspect one could think of, meant something beyond simple comprehension. Did it matter that Hajime had become irrational and mad and hurt and extreme? Did it matter that, at the end of the day, when fear was almost an entity beside him and death seemed to be watching him from every corner, Hajime still loved Tooru with all his might, although he couldn't help but hate him with the same intensity? 

Was there any logic in that reasoning? Could someone lose their own way just because they missed a step on the journey? Hajime yearned for an answer as much as he yearned for Tooru to come back and for him to never appear again. He needed to know if there was logic and, therefor, if there was hope. He needed to know if all the steps he already lost in all those long years already passed were the missing parts in his fundaments now. Could a man go mad just because death had now a shape, a voice, a face and a heart one could grow to love?

The answer to that question was probably a yes, and so Hajime lost another step and missed another small part of himself in his absolute need to understand the unimaginable. Who was Iwaizumi Hajime in this destiny where the love of his life was meant to kill him? What was Iwaizumi Hajime in this inevitability of a joke? How could Iwaizumi Hajime understand what all of that meant?

Hajime was so preoccupied trying to fantom what could never be understood by human minds that he started to forget what he already had, what he had been born to be. Maybe that's what love does to us, simple humans; maybe that's what happens when we allow ourselves the privilege of loving a god: we lose sight of what we are meant to reach. Hajime couldn't understand why his life had adopted this shape and so he got mad and got sad and started to see reality as a blur. He forgot that he was indeed human, and even if humanity could weight as a curse sometimes, truth reminded that humans had a beginning and an end they would never be able to escape from. Love could not change that fate, nor could Oikawa Tooru. Hajime, with all his love and all his fear and all his yearning, with his need to save those missed steps he thought were so important, started to forget what he had always known. 

He had never feared death before, he had never feared Oikawa before. If there was something Hajime knew about himself was that he was a simple man. Small things —a head against his shoulder, a voice in the middle of a crowd, a silent presence meant to heal him— built his world. Iwaizumi Hajime was the happiest when the tiniest things would happen but in that dark corner of sadness that Oikawa left when he went back to Heavens, in those caves he started to see when there was no Tooru to lighten his sight, Hajime's gaze started to shape, and then it started to lie. 

 

When the day came, Hajime blamed Oikawa, because he had decided at some point in all those journeys to the past that his curse was him and nothing else. In those long weeks, Hajime started to forget how Tooru looked like, and with that image fading into nothingness, he allowed himself to forget how much he loved Tooru as well. He would tell himself, _he lied with every breath he took near me,_ and then Hajime would breath a bit better, even if his heart would feel heavier. He would look at Kuroo, who came back home as if he just went through hell, and Hajime would hate Tooru again, because next time Kuroo came back from a nearly death, Hajime would not be here to lay a blanket around his friend's shoulders and stay awake with him until his shivers went away. When Daichi told him at the end of the third week without Oikawa that it was time for Yaichi to be a part of their owner circle, Hajime would clench his teeth and hate every cell in his body that still dared to think of that damn god as something good instead of something awful. 

Hate was the excuse Hajime needed to do what had to be done. It was not love what brought him to that damn mountain the first day, not at all. It was his anger at Tooru for openly avoid him what made Hajime climb that mountain the second day, and pure rage what made him go the third. It was his perfect life twisted like some cosmic joke Hajime was totally missing, but that he was dying to understand. He had so many questions, he had so many reproaches, he had just too much in his plate and none of it was meant for human's hearts to see. And so Hajime climbed that mountain day after day for the length of a week, wishing Oikawa would be there waiting for him, and for Oikawa to not be there at all. Every time Hajime ended up in front of that damn tiny shrine, he would put his hands together and he would pray to the gods he now knew were real. He would think _please, gods, please, let him forget about me, please, please, please_ ; but when he would turn around and go back home, when his eyes where not in front of any god-like place, his plea would be different, because as much as a simple man Iwaizumi Hajime was, when love and death were involved, he even forgot how to be true to himself.

Oikawa didn't forget about him, though. How could he? Oikawa didn't hear Hajime praying to Heavens either, because while Hajime suffered in the down world, Oikawa was too focused on saving him or killing him without damaging his soul. While Hajime grew angrier, Oikawa grew lighter. The human world started to break Hajime in Oikawa's absence, while Hajime's absence gave Tooru the tools he needed to face what they were both doomed to live.

When the sunset accompanied Hajime the eight day through all that path he knew way too well, when the world set itself on fire as a promise of what was inevitable, Hajime's heart had become something completely new. It was heavy, thick and dark. If Hajime let himself think about it, he would only see it as a black rock absorbed by the rage of a volcano that had now lost its true identity to the will of a more powerful force of nature. Hajime went to the shrine because he knew his fate was set in stone, not because there was any other emotion involved. He could be a stranger to himself at this point, he told himself, but he had never backed out from something before. His death sentence wasn't going to be the first time. 

Maybe the light gave it away, maybe the soft change in the bird's songs was what told Hajime that his world had shifted once again. He could even feel the difference in his skin, how he went from dead cold to burning up in the course of a heartbeat. Before this, Hajime and Tooru had never spent more than a week apart, and maybe a week was not enough to show how much they affected each other. 

But a month. A month full of regret and mixed feelings; a month of silent yearning and burning tears of rage. A month so filled with extremes had built them to be extra sensitive to what they had missed so much for so long. 

Hajime hated it, because he was now on the business of hate, but the truth was his body was almost singing; his hands trembled and his heart sped up, and when his legs were going to move, he had to close his eyes and breath in deeply enough to get a hold over his body before it started to act without his rational consent. He hated it, he hated it. Even after forgetting his face and the sound of his voice, even after he crushed those memories that had given him so much warmth during all these years; even after all the effort Hajime had put into not loving Tooru, he could not run away from it. He could never run away from it.

It was, after all, set in stone, wasn't it?

Hajime heard him take a breath, as if he was preparing himself to talk, and the realization hit him hard as a rock. He couldn't do it, he couldn't do this. He didn't wanna die, he didn't want to face Oikawa, he didn't want to accept life was reaching its end. 

"I—".

"No," he interrupted, too loud, to scared to hide his feelings from his own voice. It was the shortest word he could say, but it said too much already. Hajime felt his eyelids tremble, he felt the strangled sound of his rushed breathing coming out of his nose, and he knew there was no way in life Oikawa didn't notice as well. Hajime, who was prepared to play the card of hate and punish Tooru with his pain and his guilt and regrets, had just blown up his opportunity to do so. Because he felt too much. Because he loved too much, so much he couldn't even pretend he didn't. 

Hajime forced his eyes to focus on the small temple, on the small stone door, on the kanjis carved in them that had started to vanish with the strength of time, and the inevitability of the weather. There was a small bottle of sake with its two matching cups, a figure of a white fox on the corner, a candle lit inside the small box of the temple that was dancing as if it was trying to survive the rage of the wind. 

He felt desperate in this tiny spot of faith someone had built in the middle of chaos. 

"Hajime," Tooru's voice was soft and inexistent. It was not even a word, it was a plea, a prayer, a cry of hope. Hajime understood it, because his name had never felt more weighted than what it did just then, but Hajime was no god, so Hajime had no power to answer him. "Hajime, it's been so long…"

It had been lives and centuries. Some universe had been created in the span of time Tooru took to come back to him and remembering the hell of a month Hajime had had to go through on his own helped him anchor his feet on the ground he had spent so much rage building up. 

"No," it was not a cry anymore, it was soft and it was empty and Hajime prided himself for the absolute cold that his word let behind. "You—. You don't have the right to say anything else anymore." Tooru breathed in in pain and Hajime hated the feeling of joy and despair he felt. "I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be here and you—." Hajime tried to find his rage but when he dig his insides the only thing left behind was pain and fear. Anger was falling from Hajime's hands like sand running away from time.

"Hajime, I need to—."

"You took everything," the whisper barely left his lips. "You made me. You built me to be yours and yours only and then you took everything you gave me and everything I gave you and left. Don't you understand, Tooru? Don't you see what you've done to me? I have nothing left, because you took it all."

"Hajime, I—. That's not… that's not true. You are—. You are yourself and I will never be able to take that from you," maybe because Tooru's words were a whisper on their own Hajime didn't shut them up. But the lack of strength in them didn't make them hurt less. 

"What a damn lie that is," Hajime closed his hands in fists and tried to face Oikawa and his damn lies. His body trembled, divided between the need of the addict and the fear of the sane, and so Hajime ended up focusing even more on that damn temple and that damn candle and the fox's eyes, that seemed too focused on Hajime's despair. "Are you that blind or are you not done playing with me just yet?"

"What? Hajime, I—".

"It just feels like a joke, a big, funny cosmic joke you have been putting on for years! _Oh, look at that kid! Wouldn't it be a nice idea to make him mine so I can completely destroy him some years from now?_ I'm just your toy, and like the puppet I am, now it's time for you to toss me aside and keep going with your life."

"Are you insane?" Tooru's voice quieted the birds and the forest and the world. It was more than a whisper but less than a cry. It was a massive punch of emotion Hajime was not prepare for and it almost sent him to the ground. "Have you been paying any attention to me all these years? Hajime, Hajime, for the love of the gods, look at me!" there was power in a god's order and, finally, Hajime could face Tooru and the world cracked a bit, because he wasn't prepared for that either. He looked beautiful and sad, his eyes held the light of tragedy, the reflection of life running towards death; of Hajime running towards Tooru. They were mesmerizing, like a fire burning a city down to ashes. 

"Hajime," that damn plea, again. Hajime had to force his shoulders to not bend under its weight. "Hajime, I love you."

It should have been beautiful and shinny, a soft caress to Hajime's tortured soul, to his dark heart that had started to morph into something vile and dead. But instead, that confession just brought bile to his mouth, a burning feeling of pain across his chest. It felt unfair, a final blow to a fatal end. 

"Then I don't want your love," those words set fire to the pain and gas to the bile, destroying Hajime from inside out. "I don't want your love! Or your want! Or your pain! Or you! I don't want you anymore! You destroyed me and now you love me? Now of all times, Tooru? I needed your love the second you left! I need your love two weeks ago when I was losing my mind! I needed your love when I started to hate you because I didn't remember how to love you. I needed your love the first time I met you in this cursed mountain and you decided to curse me with it!"

"I'm sorry," Tooru's tears were something hard to watch, because they were silent and didn't ask for anything else than a bit of relief. "I'm so sorry, Hajime. I don't want—. I don't want you to hate me. I don't want you to die. Hajime, I don't want to kill you. Don't you understand? You were never my puppet, I've always been yours. Death, life, gods. I have no control over any of it and I never had. I was—. I was lost when I found you. Don't you see, Hajime? I was lost. And I found you. And then things started to make sense again. I couldn't control life or death, I couldn't even remember what I was before I became this, but when you shook my hand, when you gave me your trust even when I didn't deserve any piece of it—. You found me, Hajime. The Tooru I could never find on my own, you found it. I might have power over your death, but you hold all the power over my existence. I only have that small moment of end, but you have my eternity. You say you needed my love all this time but, Hajime, what you don't understand is that your are my love."

Words might as well had shape and form, because those one's knocked Hajime down. Because Hajime understood. Of course he did. When Tooru said _you are my love_ Tooru literally meant _you are my love_. Oikawa Tooru was a god without a temple and without his name written in history, but Iwaizumi Hajime was his love and his humanity and the shape of his existence. Iwaizumi Hajime was the most beautiful part of Oikawa Tooru and the knowledge broke Hajime in half. 

The knowledge weighted like the world but couldn't change anything. Hajime was the expression of Tooru's existence, but he still had to die and he was still scared and he still loved Tooru so damn much his chest could not hold any other emotion. It was painful. It had nothing to do with that cheery, sweet love Hajime felt for Tooru when he was a kid, nor the burning feeling that sweet love had evolved into. It was not beautiful anymore, it was not calm and it was not a safe port. Hajime's love was a storm, chaos that had the purpose of destroying every peace of mind Hajime had left. 

"I don't know how to love you anymore," Hajime confessed, a hand holding his chest just where his heart was crashing inside. He could barely look Tooru in the eyes, he could barely keep his own eyes open, so strong was the pain. "I don't know… I don't know you, or me, or us. This is just insane and I can't understand it. I don't want to love you. I hate you and I don't want to love you," Tooru took a step back, because the same way Tooru's words had shape and had strength, Hajime's could take him off his feet as well. "But I can't stop. I want to, I want it so badly but I can't. If I stop loving you then I will have to stop loving myself. If I take you away from me I will have to lose myself too. Why, Tooru? Why did you make me like this?"

"I didn't," Tooru's voice was a whimper. "I never intended to do anything to you besides loving you, Hajime. I only—. I only wanted you to be happy and to live forever and to have everything good that you deserve. But the only thing you got was me. You only got me. I'm so sorry, Hajime. I'm so sorry I couldn't give you more."

Hajime turned around, because facing Tooru was an impossibility if he wanted to keep his heart beating for a bit longer. There were steps leading to the small shrine. Stone steps, just like the ones Hajime missed in his rush to understand Tooru and to understand death and even the gods' will. Steps and a weak flame that was fighting with all its might to not die, just like Hajime was doing.

"I don't want to die," Hajime said in a soft voice, so quiet Tooru barely heard him. "I'm not ready to die," Hajime heard Tooru take a deep breath in and held it, as if he was trying to hold his words with it. "I don't understand why I have to die, nor why is this the gods' will."

"Fate," Tooru's voice was filled with venom and warmth, a bit of hate and a tone of love. Hajime understood, because Tooru was a part of himself, and because fate had always been one of the things Tooru hated the most. 

"I don't believe in fate."

"I know."

"And I don't care about fate," Tooru sighed deeply behind him. "I would have fallen in love with you had fate being involved or not. It's not that we were meant to be, it has nothing to do with your gods or the red strings of the universe. I would have fallen in love with you even if you were meant to be someone else's. I will probably fall in love with you a thousand times in every each of my next lives."

Hajime closed his eyes with strength to the sound of Tooru's soft whimper. He bit his lip and he closed his hands in fists but there was not enough self control in the world that could stop him from turning around and face Tooru again. 

He was covering his mouth with his hands to keep the tearing sounds of his pain hidden inside. His cheeks were wet and his brown eyes were shinning like the universe itself. It felt unfair and it felt right and for a second Hajime forgot everything else beyond Tooru's expression and Tooru's existence. 

"You've always been enough, Tooru," Hajime confessed, his own eyes tearier than what he would like. "It's not you or your love what destroyed me. It was you leaving me when I needed you the most. I could have gotten over this if you had stayed with me, if you had just… explained everything instead of running away."

"I just—. I don't want to take your life away, Hajime. I don't—".

"I love you, Tooru, with everything I am," Tooru covered his face to the sound of those words, his shoulders trembling so badly Hajime had to hold the urge of reaching him and hold him before he fell a part into pieces. "But I've grown to hate you as well. I can't take that emotion away, because I—. I trusted you and you went away, and that… That, I can't erase."

"I needed to know if there was another way," Tooru sobbed against his hands. "I needed to know if I could take your life without destroying your existence completely. I just—. I wanted to keep you breathing so badly…"

The forest spoke again in the silence Tooru's words left behind. Hajime couldn't answer, because he didn't know how to answer anymore, and Tooru's tears were taking too much of his energy for him to say anything else. 

Hajime had never stopped to think about it. He was so preoccupied about his upcoming death he never thought about a way out of it, besides hiding from Tooru and his truths. He was so angry and raged, the only thought he could hold was the betrayal feeling evoking Tooru's face left behind. He didn't know there was another option besides him dying and the fact that Tooru, once again, had kept that small detail away from him awoken in Hajime a burning feeling he knew too well by now.

"And you didn't tell me? How hard was for you to let me know there was another option, Tooru? Gods! Will you ever start thinking about how your actions affect the people around you? Why are you so self centered, for the love of gods!"

"Because I am a god! And because—. Because I can't think straight when you are involved! I am emotional when it's about you."

Hajime threw his arms into the air, his words lost in the astonishment that was filling him up. "I can't believe you. You left me for a month with the knowledge I would die, that you will kill me, and you forget to tell me it could be different?"

Tooru was watching him again, his face red and gross by the tears and the snot and goddammit, why was he so gorgeous that Hajime had to lose his breathing for a second?

"It can't be different," Tooru's small voice made the forest silent again. It almost shut down Hajime's heart, with that sadness that was falling from the statement like the tears that had been falling from Tooru's eyes. "I—. I don't want it to be different."

"For the love of—! Are you for real? This is not only about you!"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Tooru took a step forward, as if he wanted to reach Hajime and shake him, but got scared at the last minute and stopped himself. "It has nothing to do with me, Hajime. I don't—. The choice is not mine, but I'm the one who can explain everything to you, so you are gonna listen my opinion!"

"Oh, that's a good one! Because you haven't been behaving like a selfish prick during all this time at all!"

"Give me a break," Tooru sighed and cleared his throat. "You will have to die, whatever your choice is. But. There are… options about what happens next."

Hajime'sn heart stuttered in his chest.

"What does that mean?"

"See, it's like a safe guard. Because of all the fate thing, you know?" Hajime shook his head because he didn't know anything, but Tooru was too occupied watching the ground to notice. "You are—. You are my soul. Of sorts," Tooru had to clear his throat again and then he averted Hajime's gaze once again, just like the master of avoiding he was. "I told you: you are my love. You are… what holds my power, my human heart. I don't know if you would have fallen in love with me if you were not meant to be it, or if you falling in love with me made you become it, but—. But, you are— you are the heart of a God. You have… special treatments."

Tooru was blushing so badly Hajime's heart did a flip flop, or maybe two. He still couldn't face Hajime, so he missed the astonished expression the human couldn't help but wear. Hajime was having problems with his breathing and his thinking. He was not processing properly what Tooru was saying and that was probably the reason why that awful thing, that over sweet, gross feeling was starting to melt his insides. _What is this?_ , he thought with disbelief. _I don't have any space for hope at this point._ But, ah, how wrong he was, because the longer he looked at Tooru and his flustered expression and that stupid thing he did with his hands when he was nervous, the more Hajime understood how wrong he was. 

"Tooru, what are you saying," Hajime asked, finally finding his voice again.

"There are other options for us, Hajime," Hajime's heart did that flip flop thing again and started racing happier than ever. "But I don't want any of it."

And that was why one could not let hope get all sticky with oneself, because sooner rather than later something like this would come and blow it all up. 

"What," the pain must have been clearly out of charts, because Tooru, finally, looked up and confronted Hajime's gaze. 

"I don't want any of it for you, Hajime. Because you deserve one thousand lives and one million of experiences, better than settling for half an existence just to stay beside me."

Hajime blinked and then turned around and looked at the shrine and felt something wrong in his chest when he realized the candle was not burning anymore. He wanted to laugh and so he did, hysterically so, and when his legs couldn't hold the shock anymore, he just let himself sit on the damn stone steps, because that was what he had been missing all this time. 

He kept laughing and laughing, louder and louder until the only thing that his brain could understand was the broken sound of his spirit. 

"Hajime, why are you—?"

"Isn't this hilarious?"

"No," Tooru answered, serious and dark, too close to Hajime for him being comfortable with it.

"No? Well, here I am, and idiot who loves you even when you are going to kill me, and then you just— just—," the laughter started to change its sound and its burning feeling and after a weird second, tears were added to the mix of a mess Iwaizumi Hajime had ended up becoming. "What the hell, Tooru? Why would you do this to me?"

"You don't understand," Tooru said with half a voice. "You—. You are so beautiful, Hajime. Your soul is so beautiful… What kind of selfish shit would I be if I kept it all for myself? If I just hold onto you and take away your opportunity to live and experience all sort of things, to see the world in hundreds of shapes? You don't understand," he said again, because Tooru couldn't even understand himself. How could he let go of the only thing that he valued in this absurdity of existence.

"No. No, I don't."

"You can become a forest spirit, or a familiar; you can break your humanity and become half a god, but then part of your essence will be lost forever. You will be Hajime, but just sometimes; you will be Hajime, but you will also become something darker, and you might even lose yourself at some point in the line. You will be Hajime, but if I die someday, then you will die as well. You will be immortal as long as I exist. Don't you see? You will be _mine_ , but I never wanted you to be _mine_ , Hajime. I want you to be you and to be yours and to chose me when there's a universe of choices around you that would better suit you."

Hajime was not laughing anymore. He was not crying anymore. He was hanging in a black space of confusion and emptiness, a sort of nirvana where emotions where completely banned. 

"The choice is yours," Tooru whispered while he kneeled before Hajime. "I have no power over it, the same way I have no power over you. Whatever you decide, it's yours. Your life, it's yours."

What was the right choice? Hajime didn't remember if he still loved Tooru anymore, although his whole body seemed to remember it just fine. He looked at Tooru, with his beautiful face and the red marks of his tears, with the secrets of the cosmos plastered in his eyes, with all the truths and all the lies, and Hajime couldn't recall what feelings were anymore. Did he love Tooru? Did he hate Tooru? Did he want immortality? Did he want a thousand lives?

Hajime didn't know. 

So he kissed Tooru, because it had been ages and because a kiss could break the spell or throw them both into the dark depths of the curse. 

Hands tangled in Tooru's neck and Tooru's hair, his mouth so angry he couldn't even force himself to be gentle. It had been so long and Hajime had been so mad and he wanted to know. He needed to know. Did he still love Tooru? Did Hajime still have himself? 

Tooru kissed him back. Not with Hajime's raged kiss, but with a soft, tender touch that spoke louder than words could ever do. While Hajime got angrier at Tooru's gentle heart, Tooru kept his lips kind and warm. Tooru didn't took over the kiss, like all those other times when he used that power to overcome Hajime's conscience. He answered Hajime, because a kiss was the simplest way they had to show their true emotions, but this time he didn't hide anything from it. It was sweet and it was destroying Hajime in a way he didn't think was possible after everything they've already gone through. 

"Kiss me like you always do! Kiss me like you always do, dammit!" Hajime screamed at Tooru's lips, forehead against forehead.

"I am," Tooru answered, his eyes closed, because he knew how much his gaze could overpower Hajime's. "I am, Hajime."

"Liar! This is not—!"

"I love you," and this time Tooru kissed Hajime, because words had so much power, but actions spoke a language that not only the mind could understand, but also the soul. Hajime held Tooru as if he was drowning and Tooru was the only lifeboat around. He tried to put his anger in his lips and his tongue when it reached Tooru's, but Tooru could not answer Hajime with rage, and after some seconds of fight Hajime had to give up.

Hajime lost his step when he rushed to get closer to Tooru, those damn steps he had ended up hating so much. His hands were tangled in black ropes and brown hair and his legs where lost in Tooru's, but not for a second did Hajime let his mouth fall away from Tooru's loving one. He was still mad and he was still confused, but his body couldn't care less. He needed Tooru, in a way that scared him more than death. 

"Is this what I'm going to be if I decide to stay with you?" he asked breathless when the punch of fear reached his conscience. 

Tooru was out of breath as well, laying on the stoned ground, eyes closed, lips red and swollen. His mouth was still a bit open, as if he was waiting for Hajime to go back to him, and after inhaling deeply, he made a weird movement with his head. Hajime growled deep in his throat, since there was no way in hell he could understand that. 

"Open your eyes and look at me, Tooru!" his voice was raged, just like his kiss had been, just like his body was still angrily pressed against him. Tooru, because he was a slave to Hajime the same way Hajime was a slave to him, followed his order after some more heartbeats. "Will I always be this mess when I'm around you?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "You are the only one I've ever fallen in love with."

Hajime blinked and tried to hide his gaze away from Tooru, but it was a hard task, since he was practically glued to the god. "I don't know what the right choice is," he confessed in a low voice. 

Hajime almost jumped out of his own skin when he felt Tooru's cold hand against his cheek. Tooru's expression was half way between absolute pain and absolute love. "The right choice is the one you won't regret taking later."

They've know each other for decades, so Hajime could read Tooru like an open book, even if he was now mad and confused. Maybe Tooru had forgotten how easily could Hajime understand him, or maybe he didn't want to hide it anymore. 

"Why would you believe me choosing you would be the wrong choice?" he asked, surprised and mad at Tooru for that stupid belief he was still holding. 

"Because you deserve better than this."

"Better than what?"

"Me! Than half a live! Choosing me means to choose half of yourself, and I'm not worth that."

"I think it's me who has to decide it."

"You don't—"

Hajime kissed him silent, because he was still confused and he didn't know what was the right thing to do. But more than anything, because there was peace in the way Tooru melted against him when their lips met, a comforting feeling Hajime could not run away from. What was the right choice? Hajime was bad at choices and bad at changes. He had problems seeing the big picture so he usually moved on instinct. And his instinct was screaming Tooru's name louder than any other sound the world could make. 

Tooru's hands got lost into Hajime's hair then, getting him closer, his eyes closed with such strength there were tears running down from the corners of his eyes. Hajime wanted to shut his eyelids as well and darken the world around him and the look of painful knowledge that was taking over Tooru's expression, but he couldn't. They had been ignoring each other's truths for so long, it felt wrong to start walking that path again, now that they were finally out of it. 

Hajime sat, breaking the kiss and the moment and maybe the last opportunity of them finding a happy ending together. Hajime knew Tooru, and he knew that, although Tooru thought the choice was Hajime's, truth remained it was Tooru's will what would tip the scales.

"Hajime, I don't want to take your life away," Tooru sobbed, still on the ground. He had his arms above his eyes, his white teeth bitting so hard into his lower lip there was black blood starting to come out of it. Hajime didn't say anything. Words were a privilege he didn't have anymore. "And I don't mean death. I don't want to steal your soul and hide it in my cloud just because I fell in love with you," he hiccuped and sniffed soundly, filling Hajime's heart with tender nostalgia. "But I want to do it. Oh, Heaven help me, I want to do it so badly. I want to wake up every morning and have you by my side; I want to be able to go back home, to go back to you, and feel safe," Tooru took his arms away so he could look Hajime in the eyes. "But that's just what I want, not what you want, nor what you deserve."

"What do I deserve?" he asked again, because he didn't understand what was that huge worth Tooru was so focused on. 

"Hundreds of lifetimes. What every other soul gets just because that's how things work. Why take that away from you just because I happened?"

Hajime lost his words again because he didn't had a right answer. Hajime's view lacked in length and width. Tooru was a god, which gave him an absolute power over knowledge Hajime couldn't reach. What was life, what came after, what would a soul become after the body died. Hajime couldn't even fathom any of those questions, even less give them an answer. 

But Tooru could, because Tooru knew. Tooru could, because Tooru had a power Hajime would never have. Hajime was a simple form of existence, and for the seconds he had after Tooru's question, the only answer he could come up with was: _because it's you, because it has always been you_. Hajime had the feeling he should be wanting so much more, but with Tooru underneath him, his tears running free, his lies destroyed around them, him just been Hajime's— there was nothing else Hajime could want. 

"Don't! Don't say it!" Tooru killed Hajime's words before they had the chance to take form. Hajime could only blink at Tooru's raged eyes, red for the tears, fired up by an emotion that was doing weird things to Hajime's heart. "I can see perfectly clear what you are going to say and I don't wanna hear it!"

"You asked!"

"It was a rhetorical question." 

"For the love of—! What do you want from me? You tell me it's my choice but then you act like this!"

"Because you are an idiot! Because you are a stupid, caring, precious human being. Because you see me and you see the universe," Tooru sniffed loudly. "I blinded you. I stole you from your world and made you mine and now I have to face the fact that you want to be kept here, beside me."

Hajime kissed Tooru again, in such a slow pace he could have drawn the world in the amount of time he took to touch Tooru's lips. It felt good, like a sort of power he didn't really know he possessed. Tooru was trembling like a leaf under the rage of the wind when Hajime finally met his mouth, and he let out a soft, sweet moan that burned Hajime from inside out. Maybe Tooru was right, maybe Hajime was blind. It was a known fact that he was a simple man who wanted simple things. Tooru might not be simple but wanting Tooru had always been. Maybe the absolute emotion that took over Hajime every time he kissed Tooru and touched Tooru was not simple, but the need of being close to Tooru had always been. 

Maybe there was no right choice or right answer. Maybe the only thing that really mattered were Tooru and Hajime, who had found each other, who were so engraved to each other that was just absurd to think of them as separated entities. 

"So tell me," Hajime managed to ask, after forcing himself away from Tooru's lips. "Tell me what you really want, because we both know that's what's gonna end up happening."

"I want the world," Tooru's voice was fierce, fire burning the forest around them into ashes. Hajime felt a chill run down his spine, the unconscious fear of the pray in front of the strongest predator. "I want to control fate and the universe. I want to give you live the same way I'm gonna take it away."

Tooru asked too much, but Tooru always asked too much. There were no middle points for Oikawa Tooru and it might have been the god in him who spoke, but Hajime had the feeling it had nothing to do with it. Oikawa Tooru wanted the world, and he probably had wanted it long before becoming this. 

"I can't give you the world," Hajime confessed, his nose one heartbeat away from Tooru's.

"No, you can't," Tooru breathed in and closed his eyes. "I can't give it to you either."

"Tooru, what do you want? Not dreams or impossibilities," Tooru closed his eyelids even stronger and Hajime's gut twisted in response. But how could he not ask? How could he let Tooru kill him and live alone for the rest of his eternal life without hearing the truth out of his lips? "For us. What do you want?"

"It's not a matter of wanting. I don't want any of this!"

"I know that. I know that, but I also know there is something you would rather do, and I need you to put it into words. I need you to tell me."

Tooru's cheeks were wet again, his tears running silently through his face. It was heartbreaking, his lips pressed together so hard all his muscles were trembling. He was still keeping his eyes closed, as if with that action all of this nightmare would go away. 

But nothing was going anywhere. Not Tooru beneath Hajime, not Hajime's soul's weight upon them both. Where were nightmares sent to, when one was the nightmare itself? Hajime could read that same fear in Tooru's silent tears and he was going mad in his need of comforting him and the instinct of running as far aways as possible. 

"Tooru, what do you want?"

"I don't want you to give away your life for me."

"But that means—"

"Who cares about me!" he screamed, eyes finally open. "I am the one who made the world bend this way! I'm the one who happened to you and now you have to die, as if I was not the one who deserved the punishment."

And he was the one who was having it, Hajime knew it better than anyone else. Even when he was scared and when Tooru had left him alone in the middle of his world's chaos, he had known. Killing the man you loved was the punishment, not dying.

But how could Hajime tell him that? How could Hajime let Tooru alone with the knowledge he would suffer alone for the rest of his existence? There were so many words and so short time. Hajime needed two seconds more, two days more, two years more. Hajime needed to be with Tooru forever, but he knew. He knew, staying with Tooru forever now would condemn him worse than killing Hajime now to give him live again. 

"If I end up living one thousand lives like you want me to, I'm gonna find you in every each of them, and I'm gonna fall in love with you over and over again," the promise burned his throat and his heart, the reality of the end rushing towards them too close to ignore it anymore. He didn't want to say goodbye. He didn't want to leave what he knew and what he loved. Tooru sobbed and reached forward, to Hajime, hugging him against his chest with strength enough to take all the air away from his lungs away. 

"I love you, Iwaizumi Hajime. I love you in a way I will never love any other form of life," Tooru promised with famish need. "I love you."

 

I love you.

An echo that reverberated through eternity. 

 

 

Heaven didn't change, nor did the world. Nothing stopped, not even Tooru's inner clock, not even Tooru's inner emotions. He was death so death could not die, but even when Tooru thought himself away from recovery, he kept breathing his fake needed air and he kept going forward. Nights became days, and days became months. Maybe years started to morph into decades, but Tooru was still here and Tooru could still feel. 

Shinigamis had another kind of weight upon their shoulders that Tooru could never understand before. It was a baggage full of pain and sadness, of happy memories that sometimes ended up being a bittersweet aftertaste in his mouth. 

He never forgot Hajime, because one couldn't just forget his own soul. 

But with the years fading into clouds of time, Tooru started to forget what the emotion had really felt like. With the years filling themselves with death upon death, Tooru forgot what happiness looked like. He would look around himself, in that damned cloud he couldn't even relate to anymore, but to which he was indisputably connected to, and he would feel a silent cry of pain in his chest. _You had him here,_ it would tell him. _You had a heart and his name was Hajime and he was yours, and he is you, and everything beautiful you once had is now his, because that was your choice, and that's the choice you became._

Tooru started to forget himself after that, because what was a god if he not only lost his love, but also his faith and the proof of his existence? Tooru, who had never been a god that existed for the people, started to fade away like the years although people never had to believe in him for him to be. 

It was like being inside a dream that never ended. He felt surreal, actions that blurred themselves into other actions without anything that connected them. Tooru was in Heaven and then he was on Earth, and the next second he had a soul holding his hand, a sad smile plastered in his lips. _I'm sorry_ , he would say, and then the soul would answer with a shrug and a calmed smile of their own. _It's ok_ , they would answer, _I'm happy it was you. I'm happy I can leave this way._

Tooru had a box with all the names and all the smiles and sometimes, when the dream became too much to handle, he would go there and he would try to remember every one of them, every one of the small details that had formed them.

Hajime was not on that box. Sometimes Tooru would spend hours looking for him until he'd remember he was not there, because the Tooru of the past had thought it too painful to handle. 

"You should go back to the world below," Kenma said, somewhere between forever and eternity. "You should give yourself the opportunity to find something beyond these clouds."

Kenma didn't understand, because Kenma had become another choice. Tooru had looked him in the eyes and hadn't answered, because with the fade of time his words seemed to fade away with it. 

"Go back to the past for a while, Tooru, before your heart vanishes."

The warning shook the dream enough for Tooru to listen for once. 

After thinking it through, after two more souls and the limits of the dream turning into the reality Tooru remembered from before, he allowed himself to follow Kenma's advice. He took his black ropes and his sad smile and he went down to earth, into a forest he still remembered too well. He walked a path that was unforgettable and when he reached that damned small temple in the middle of nowhere, something cracked in his chest.

He was his choice, and he hated his choice with all his might. With the years becoming lifetimes, Tooru forgot the reason why he did what he did. With the pain becoming numbness, Tooru's selfishness grew bigger and louder. _Why, Tooru, why would you condemn yourself to this misery when you could have had him and eternity?_

But, ah, how much he hated Kenma when he was right, because when Tooru turned around, with the rage boiling his blood into dark clouds of ash, the answer fell from Heaven. Just as Kenma expected it to do so.

She was watching him with her head titled to the side, her hair long enough to reach her hips. She was five, maybe six. A shinning smile missing some whites, eyes so green Tooru's dead heart stopped for a single minute. 

It was not the Hajime he remembered, because that's not how souls work. But those eyes—. That shinning spark he could even see meters apart, it was unmistakable. The way Tooru's chest light up was also unmistakable. 

He should have known it. He should have known it all along. 

"Do you wanna play?"

Tooru's smile drawn into his tears when the numbness of the dream finally vanished away.

He was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end. I can believe I actually did it and I don't even know if someone is reading this anymore, but I'm happy so. 
> 
> If you've gotten this far, thank you so, so, so much for reading. I hope you liked it and enjoyed it. If you have any questions (the open ending and all that) [HERE](http://ellehletoile.tumblr.com)'s my tumblr, so don't hesitate to come and say hi!


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